


Last Flight to Stockholm

by noitalammas



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26999791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noitalammas/pseuds/noitalammas
Summary: Human AU. Tino needs a change, so he's starting over again in a new country. He plans on keeping his head down and moving on with life, but the future keeps blending with the past’s nightmares. As he learns to move forward, the relationships he cultivates help him grow and blossom, and he gets to express who he is - and who he loves.
Relationships: Denmark/Norway (Hetalia), Finland/Sweden (Hetalia)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 61





	1. A Prelude

_*beep!* *beep!*_

_It’s Thursday._

_Didn’t I have some kind of ritual on Thursdays?_

Wake up. Wash face, brush teeth. Leave the bed behind, management can take care of that. Everything else got taken out yesterday. Still, got to look around, calm that nagging anxiety, make _real_ sure that nothing was left behind.

Memories of days gone by are etched into the walls. _Only I can see them._ The floor whispers remembrances in its creaks. Cobwebs in the empty closets. Shadows around every corner. It’s a modern space but it feels like a ghost, a shell of a former life.

_Why can I not remember what I did on Thursdays?_

The phone won’t stop going off - thank goodness the sound is off. It's annoying. People asking questions. _Thank the heavens I’m not a social media person._ Inquiring minds and prying eyes would have to wait. No time for that now. Hopefully no time for that ever. 

Check time and schedule on the phone. Ignore the messages, pay no attention to the names and numbers and words. Running early, as expected.

Lock the door. Down the two flights of stairs - elevator is _still_ broken. Drop the key off to management. Some paperwork.

And then -

_Oh. That’s right, on Thursdays…_

Find a cab. There’s still time, so now there’s one extra stop on the schedule.

* * *

Tino gripped the train ticket in his hand as tightly as he could, as the wind blew fiercely around him. The ticket was for a one-way ride to Turku from Helsinki, one of two one-way tickets in Tino’s possession, the other being an airplane ticket to Stockholm.

Tino was moving to Stockholm.

He knew this, and yet it still wasn’t fully registering.

He was still thinking about weekend trips from Helsinki to his mother’s home in Jyväskylä, his hometown. He was still thinking about going bar-hopping in the neighborhoods outside his apartment with his cousin Eduard. He was still thinking about driving the six and a half hours to Oulu, where his younger sister was in university -

But that was before this trip. This was different. Honestly, if you asked Tino, he’d say it wasn’t even a trip.

He’d call it a change.

 _I feel like I’m running away,_ he thought to himself as he stared at the train ticket clasped in his gloved hand. _I feel like I’m weak._ He was headed to a new job, in a new city, in a sort of new country (he’d visited a few times in his life) where he kind of understood the language. Sweden had seemed like the best choice - if it were a few years earlier, Tino would have considered moving to the USA, the “land of opportunity!” as he’d always heard, but the country’s headlines seemed to get worse by the day. Canada had also seemed appealing, but the process to move would take too long. Tino had felt too much urgency, like something dark from the shadows was nipping at his heels, and he had needed to get the hell away from Helsinki, and _fast_. He knew more Swedish than a lot of other European languages; he’d found a job online for customer service work that asked for Finnish and English fluency, which he had; his mother had assisted in finding him an apartment that only required one metro ride from the new job. She’d even had a nice mattress shipped to the apartment before his arrival, “so you can settle in quickly and at least have a spot to sleep.” 

He felt like his mom’s assistance was out of guilt. Or pity.

The train to Turku wasn’t as fast as he wanted, but he could accept it for now. He accepted that nothing would beat the speed of his racing thoughts as he watched the scenery fly by him.

* * *

After a quick train and a shaky plane ride, Tino called a cab for Södermalm, one of Stockholm’s neighborhoods - a “trendy” neighborhood, as the Internet had claimed. His mom had insisted on helping with the high price tag for a one bedroom apartment above a small bar. “It’s a place full of young people! You’ll adjust so well, I know you will!” Tino remembered the smile his mother gave him as she spoke, and how it looked pained.

As if the mental connection between mother and son had briefly snapped into the physical world, Tino’s phone went off repeatedly, signifying several incoming text messages. _Äiti,_ he thought to himself as he unlocked the phone, _why do you send one sentence per message to make my phone go off like crazy?_ His eyes flitted over the messages, glancing at them briefly, seeing the similar well-wishing his mom had always given him in major life events. But he got caught on the last text message, which contained a single sentence:

_And PLEASE try to make some friends._

Tino’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Friend-making was the last thing he wanted to think about right now, and he honestly wanted to shut his phone off and leave his mom hanging. But he couldn’t. Not after all the assistance she’d given recently (well, that, and his little sister wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he did). She was worried.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, he responded: 

_Ok, I will try._


	2. The Fleeting Norsemen

Tino entered the building from the back alley, the door slamming shut behind him and almost clipping his suitcase. The space he was in seemed to be a kind of foyer, with stairs leading up to where he presumed the apartments were located, and a door on the ground floor labeled “NO ENTRY - COME THROUGH FRONT.” Tino assumed that meant the door went into the bar, but just wasn’t in use. He shrugged internally to himself and hoisted his suitcase into his arms, carrying it up the creaking stairs. Once he was at the top, he sat his suitcase down and rolled it into the hallway that stretched out before him.

It was a very small, narrow hallway, with only two doors, one on either side, and a small bay window at the end showing the western sky, letting the late afternoon light spill into the hall and illuminate dust particles dancing in the air. The busy noise from the street didn’t reach this place. Honestly, Tino thought, it was quaint, and much better than he expected. When he had been apartment searching, he’d been adamant on finding an independently owned place to rent, rather than renting in a new property owned by some large company; he’d lived in nicer, newer spots when he was in Helsinki, but he found the management was always a problem, and no one ever heard his feedback or issues. He was always charged all sorts of fees he couldn’t get an explanation for, construction would wake him up without being notified, brand-new appliances would stop working - he wanted to try something different this time. He’d been slightly ecstatic when his mother woke him up at five one morning, telling him about the small apartment in Södermalm owned by the owner of the bar downstairs. He’d been prepared for much worse than this, after Eduard’s horror stories about all the rundown apartments he’d lived in during his college days in Tallinn - this was nothing.

As Tino was glancing at each of the two doors, pondering which one to knock, the door labeled “A” shuddered as the knob turned. A harsh squeaking sound filled the hall as the door slowly pulled inward, Tino stepping back in mild alarm.  _ Is this the landlord? Why did I forget to check which apartment it was, it's been a month since I looked at the application... _

The figure that stepped through the door was probably at even height with Tino, his blonde hair giving off a platinum white shine that coolly matched his pale skin. Tino could guess he was still in his late teens, probably at the end of secondary school or the beginning of university. He was completely engrossed in his phone and in the music playing from wireless earbuds shoved firmly into his ears. He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and walked directly past Tino without looking up. Tino watched him as he stomped halfway down the stairs before stopping, muttering, “Wait,” and turning on his heel to look at the man he’d just walked past. “Uh, why are you in here?” 

“Oh!” Tino’s yelp of surprise at being addressed came out cracked due to a dry throat; he wasn’t expecting the delayed reaction. Slightly embarrassed, he cleared his throat and continued, “I’m here to rent an apartment, I’ve been talking with a Mister…” He pulled out his phone and glanced on his lock screen’s Notes section. “A Mister Bondevik?”

The boy’s mouth twitched. “I’m a Mister Bondevik, but it wasn’t me. Hold on a sec.” He pulled out his phone, typing on his keyboard and staring at the screen as Tino watched, his fingers fidgeting from clasped hands. 

After what felt like an eternity to Tino, the boy looked up at him from the phone. “Mister Bondevik is my brother. I’ll take you to meet him in the bar.” He motioned to Tino’s suitcase. “You can leave your stuff here, I’ll lock the door behind us.” He turned and continued walking down the stairs. Tino, not wanting to hesitate, immediately started for the stairs, trying to catch up. 

“What about that door?” He asked the boy as they got to the foyer entrance, pointing at the clearly labeled bar door.

“It’s locked, too. I can show you when we get to the other side of it, if you want,” the boy offered, stepping outside and holding the door open for Tino with his foot. Tino stepped outside with a quick thank you and watched as the boy locked the door to the building’s back area. He then started around the side of the building without saying a word, Tino following. 

As the pair walked to the bar’s front entrance, Tino felt his nerves getting worse, and he desperately tried to cut the awkward silence. “Um, so, what’s your name?”

“Emil,” the boy responded flatly, eyes still glued to his phone. Tino waited for him to say something, and when he didn’t, tried again: “Well, I’m Tino, it’s nice to meet you!” 

He was met with a noncommittal grunt and more silence. _Sheesh._

Thankfully it wasn’t going to be awkward any longer, because they’d reached the front door at that point. Emil opened the door, still without looking up, and sauntered inside.

Tino reached for the door before it closed behind Emil, and was surprised when he felt the weight of the incredibly heavy door before slowly pulling it open again. As he pulled, he noticed the name of the bar painted on the door’s glass window in red, white, and blue paint:  _ Flykten Nordmännen.  _ If Tino’s Swedish was correct, it translated to _ The Fleeting Norsemen _ .

* * *

The inside of the bar was warm in the glow of the late afternoon. Emil led Tino across the main floor, where a menagerie of various tables and chairs were splayed across the floor, awaiting their evening clientele; it was quiet, as the bar wasn’t yet open for business. The bar had high ceilings and cobblestone floors, and felt slightly like a castle mixed with a seaside bar for pirates. Flags of all the Norse countries hung on the walls, along with several pieces of art displaying traditional Viking ships. The main bar, which was the largest bar Tino had ever seen, stretched almost the length of the entire wall, with shelves and shelves of different kinds of alcohol behind the bar. Classical music was playing softly from an unseen speaker system, just enough for Tino to notice it was there.

When Emil reached the bar, he slapped his hand down on the counter. “Yo! We’re here!” He then sat on one of the bar’s wood and metal stools, phone in hand.

Tino heard two voices, coming from a doorway behind the bar, talking in hushed voices for a minute, then two men emerged from the doorway. Both men were blonde and fair-skinned, but each carried himself differently; the shorter man seemed to glide across the floor, like he was floating, and had a slightly ethereal presence to him. The other man, whose blond hair shot up in spikes, walked with a slight swagger, moving slower than the other, but with more precision to his movements. They seemed like complete opposites, yet they also seemed perfectly in sync. Maybe it was because the bar was empty, but their presence commanded Tino's attention, and he was no longer thinking about his nervous tension from earlier.

“You’re Tino, correct?” The shorter man extended a hand, skin slightly pruned from what Tino presumed to be washing glasses. “I’m Lukas Bondevik, the owner. Nice to finally meet you.” 

“Ah-” Tino started, then quickly grasped the extended hand with both of his own. “Yes, it’s so nice to meet you in person, Mister Bondevik! I know my mom handled some of the conversation on my behalf, I hope she wasn’t too overbearing…” 

“Please, no Mister Bondevik or anything. Makes me feel old. Call me Lukas.” Lukas gave Tino a small smile.

“What he’s not tellin’ you,” the taller man piped up from further behind the bar, “is that normally he’d be callin’  _ you _ Mister Whatever, but all three of us put together couldn’t figure out how to pronounce your last name!” He stepped to the edge of the bar and extended his hand. “I’m Mads!” 

But before Tino could shake his hand, as he did his best to ignore the remark about his last name, Mads jumped suddenly, yelped, and turned to Lukas, who was suddenly standing very close to Mads. “Did you just pinch me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lukas responded, showing no emotion in his response. “Don’t be so brash and loud right away or you’ll run him off before he’s even settled in.” He then turned back to Tino. “Do you start work right away tomorrow?” 

“No, I don’t start until Monday, so I’ve got tomorrow and the weekend free,” Tino responded. “Why?”

“Would it be all right if we did things like touring and paperwork tomorrow morning?” Lukas asked. “Thursdays tend to be busy for us so I suspect we won’t have any time tonight, as it’s close to opening.” 

“Oh, sure, that’s no problem.” Tino was eager to please the new landlord  _ and _ to get out of the bar as soon as possible.

“Thank you. Emil can show you to your apartment and answer any immediate questions you may have.” Lukas glanced at Emil, who gave a thumbs up without looking up. He then reached beneath the bar and handed Tino a set of keys, as well as a bottle of some generic pale lager. “I hope your first night goes well, and I apologize if the bar noise gets to be too much.”

Tino hesitated, for just a second, surprised at the lager, then slowly grabbed the keys and bottle. “Thank you.” He looked at Lukas and smiled -  _ first genuine smile of the day _ , he thought to himself. 

Emil pushed himself from the barstool and stood, glancing up at Tino. “Let’s go,” he said, then headed to the front door. Tino took a step towards the door before stopping, turning, and saying, “Oh, nice to meet you too, Mister Mads!” He then inhaled sharply, realizing he’d used an honorific without thinking, then hurried after Emil to the door. He could hear Mads’ boisterous laugh behind him as he went.

* * *

“There are fire extinguishers under the sink and in the hallway,” Emil was explaining as the two walked up the foyer steps. Tino’s suitcase sat untouched in the hall above. “The door downstairs can be locked by one of the keys you got, and the other locks your apartment. Mail always comes through the bar. On nights when the bar gets busy it can get pretty loud, sometimes until one or two in the morning. And the floors creak...in your apartment I think it’s in the living room.” Emil stopped at the “A” door. “This is where Lukas, Mads, and I live. Maybe they’ll invite you over some time. I don’t know.” He then stepped inside and slammed the door behind him.

Tino stared at the “A” door for a few moments. His mind was blank, mostly. He didn’t know where to go, what to do, until his feet moved on their own to the door marked “B”. His hands moved on their own and pushed the key into the lock, opening the door, pulling his suitcase inside his new apartment.

Emil had been right. His living room floor  _ did _ creak. The floor was wooden, painted a light cream color throughout the apartment. The walls were a plain white plaster. The small bathroom had a standing shower and matched the nautical feel of the hallway. The bedroom contained a mattress, laying on the floor, with a flat-packed bed propped up on the wall. Tino figured his mom must have had it delivered but hadn’t thought about it arriving flat-packed. He glanced at his phone for the time, saw it was still early evening, and figured that he had nothing better to do. He opened his suitcase and dug around for his tool kit, pulled out his multitool, and began tearing away at the bed’s packaging.

Two and a half hours later, Tino had a bedframe and a mattress, which was far more than he expected for his first night in a new country. And he had beer! _A pretty average lager_ , Tino decided to himself when he opened it after completing the bed frame, _but lager nonetheless_. The small gesture from Lukas meant a lot to Tino. 

He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he was terrified of this new start. He was far from home, from everything he’d ever known, where the closest comfort he could get through his cell phone. 

Speaking of cell phones, Tino’s phone buzzed, just once. He reached across the bed and grabbed it off of the mattress. 

The text was from his younger sister.  _ Did mom order you a bed? _

He smirked. Of course Tuuli knew.  _ Yeah. Just finished building it. _

_ She swore up and down she clicked on install when she ordered it. pft. how’s the apartment? _

_ It’s fine. Bar owner landlord guy seemed nice. _

_ Tino! Go down to the bar and drink! I’ll send you money for a shot on me. _

Tino rolled his eyes.  _ Not tonight, Tuu. I’m tired. _

_ Isojääää*!!!!  _ Tino could hear Tuuli’s texts ringing in his ears.  _ Go relax and take a load off! Be ur social butterfly SELF! _

Tino chose to ignore this last text, sitting his phone face down on the mattress and heading for his suitcase. He chose to spend the evening unpacking his suitcase - full of clothes, bedding, and items for the bathroom - and getting his bed made. He chose to get a scalding hot shower, feeling the steam build up around him as he stared into the white subway tile of the shower.

He chose to crawl into bed early, a book in his hand but his mind a thousand kilometers away. The day had been a lot for him, and the bar noise was something he’d have to get used to. He was grateful when sleep finally snuck up and took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Isojä" - butchered combination of "iso" (big) and "jäbä" (a variant of bro). Doesn't follow Finnish grammar rules but that's probably the point.


	3. Building Environments

When Tino awoke the next day, it was late morning, and the quietest it had been since he arrived. He lay still, eyes closed, appreciating the silence that contrasted from the late night din of the bar, when a knock sounded on his front door.

He sat up. “J-just one moment!” 

He hastily arose and dressed himself in jeans, socks, and a shirt before rushing to the front door and swinging it open.

Mads stood at the doorway. His hair’s spikes were messy and tousled, and he was wearing pajamas. “Mornin’, neighbor! We figured you probably didn’t have much food yet, so we wanted to see if ya wanted to join us for breakfast!” He grinned. “You’re a Finn, yeah? Don’t worry, we got tons of coffee!”

Tino was about to politely decline Mads’s offer and ask to just get paperwork over with when his stomach cut him off, rumbling loudly. 

_ Oh, yeah, I didn’t eat dinner last night… _

“Well,” Mads stepped into the apartment and grabbed Tino’s forearm, “your stomach said yes! I heard it!” He tugged Tino towards the hall.

“But I-I don’t even have shoes on!” Tino protested.

“Won’t need ‘em!” Mads lifted a foot and wiggled it around in the air to show Tino that he was also only wearing socks. 

At this, Tino stopped his protesting and let Mads drag him across the hall into the apartment marked “A”.

This apartment was bigger than Tino’s, with an expanded living room and a second bedroom, as well as a small den on the ground floor. Lukas was pouring coffee into mugs as Mads and Tino entered, Mads heading straight for the kitchen table while leaving Tino to look around at the furnished and lived-in apartment. 

Like his own, the walls were plain white plaster, but instead of being plain they were covered in a variety of art pieces and photos. The living room and kitchen were open concept, and divided by a strategically placed couch. A low coffee table was surrounded by said couch, a worn-looking armchair, and several beanbag chairs and poufs. Emil’s school photos of various ages lined the staircase to the upper floor. Tino couldn’t see the den from where he was standing, tucked around the corner from the kitchen; he’d be able to see if he went into the living room, but wasn’t going to do that unless prompted.

The real eye-catcher of the living area was a large macramé tapestry on the wall adjacent to the kitchen cabinetry. Its base was probably as long as Tino was tall; it was the only thing on the wall, and looked somewhat heavy. Different shades of grey, blue, and white were intricately woven with all sorts of knots and twists, made out of what looked light a lightweight oversized yarn, cascading down until it ended at two points close to the floor. Tino got lost in the threads of the yarn for a moment, reminding him of the sea on a stormy day.

“Need milk or sugar?” Mads’s voice from the table brought him back to the present. Mads was holding a cup of coffee in his hands; judging by the color, with a healthy amount of milk.

“Just a small spoon of sugar.” Tino gulped. “I-I can take care of it-” 

“Don’t need to, I’ve already got it,” Lukas interrupted, appearing silently from behind Mads and handing Tino a mug. “Small spoon of sugar, just like you said.” 

Tino accepted the mug. “Thank you,” he said, before lifting the cup to his lips.

Lukas had gotten it right on the first try; just a small touch of sweetness to cut through the bitterness. 

It felt familiar, homey,  _ normal _ . 

At that point, Tino was the most relaxed he’d been since he headed to the train station in Helsinki. 

Lukas and Mads served a breakfast of eggs, toast, and jam, Lukas making pancakes last. Shortly after Tino’s arrival, Emil showed up from upstairs, phone still in hand like he hadn’t put it down once since yesterday afternoon. “Hey new guy,” he murmured as he walked past Tino to his seat at the kitchen table.

“Good morning, Emil!” Tino’s use of Emil’s name earned him a glance from the boy. 

_ So he can look up from his phone!  _ Tino was beginning to wonder if the phone was just attached to him somehow.

Lukas noticed this interaction and, as if reading Tino’s thoughts, said, “Don’t be so glued to your phone at the table, Emil.” 

Mads was busy slapping strawberry jam onto a piece of toast. “So! Tino! You’re a Finn, yeah?”

“Ah - yes, that’s right,” Tino responded, sitting at the table and taking a piece of toast.

“Is Tino a common name?” Lukas asked as he joined them at the table. “I’ve met a few Finns named Timo before, but never Tino.” As he sat, he sat a plate of pancakes and a small pitcher of syrup in the center of the table. Mads and Emil both immediately turned their forks to the plate of pancakes and shoved their shoulders into each others’ sides, fighting to get the top pancakes off the stack. 

Tino watched the two for a second, nearly forgetting Lukas’s question, until he realized Lukas was looking at him and ignoring the other two. “Ah, um, no, it’s not, Timo is way more common. My mom always said...she wanted my name to be  _ unique _ ,” the end of his sentence coming off harsher than he intended. He felt his ears burn.

“Man, combined with that crazy last name of yours, I bet you have to spell your name out every time, huh?!” Mads’s mouth was half-full of toast as he spoke, going for the syrup pitcher since Emil had beaten him to the pancake stack. “How do you pronounce it?”

Tino felt his cheeks burning with shame, matching his ears. “Väinämöinen…” he said slowly, enunciating, cringing slightly. The knife he’d been using to spread jam on his toast trembled in his hand. Lukas’s eyes went to Tino’s hand, then at his still-empty plate on the table, as he slowly leaned towards Mads, who was now trying to pronounce Tino’s last name.

“Vaina...no, Väina...Vai- Y-Yeow!” Mads yelped and jumped out of his seat, his fork falling out of his hand and onto his plate. “Will you stop with the pinching, Lukas?” He turned to face Lukas with a pout. “I don’t even know what I did this time!”

Lukas ignored Mads and continued to look at Tino. “You’ll have to excuse his...lack of sensitivity. He’s just been very excited to meet you.” He slowly reached for some eggs. “Just Tino is fine, yeah?” 

“Uh, yeah. Just Tino is fine.” While he was internally grateful for Lukas’s intervention, he couldn’t seem to move his facial muscles, plainly showing his embarrassment. 

He’d thought of going by a different name when he’d arrived in Sweden. It was clear to anyone in the room that Tino was embarrassed by the uniqueness and difficulty of his name. He’d been prepared beforehand for people to struggle with his last name, but to have been in a new country less than twenty-four hours and already been conflicted with his first name’s difficulties - a name he’d been bullied for in primary school - it had been overwhelming.

He desperately needed a subject change. “So Bondevik...that’s not Swedish, is it?”

“Norwegian, actually,” said Lukas, absentmindedly reaching for the jam. 

Tino turned to Mads, who was already back in his seat stuffing his face with pancake. “And what’s your last name, Mads?”

“‘S B’nd’vik!” was the answer he got. 

_ Wait...the fuck? _

Lukas reached over and lightly slapped the back of his head, murmuring about “talking with your mouth full”. Both of them seemed highly energetic in their own way, quietly arguing about Mads’s eating habits.

_ Now that I think about it, their behavior with each other is kind of familiar. _

Emil caught Tino staring at the two and muttered, “They’re always like this.” 

Tino sat silently for a moment, watching Lukas and Mads bickering.  _ They’re reminding me of… _

Then he blinked slowly.  _ Oh. That must be why they have the same last name. _

“So how long have you two been, like,  _ married _ married?” 

The pair stopped their conversation mid-sentence and turned to Tino. He felt his cheeks flush as they both regarded him with surprise. “I mean, with the last name change and all!”

“Two years!” Mads grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “You got it on the first try. Everyone always thinks we’re brothers.” He pointed his jam-covered knife at Tino. “You’re sharp, huh? How’d ya tell? We don’t wear our rings while we work, and we don’t have ‘em on right now.” 

Emil and Lukas both leaned forward on their elbows.

Tino could feel three pairs of eyes boring into him.

_ Ugh. _

_ Because it’s too familiar to me. _

“Oh, well, I figured you weren’t brothers, since Emil said he and Lukas were brothers, and no offense, Mads, but you don’t look related to them at all.” This earned a guffaw from Mads. “And the way you two just act in each other’s presence, it’s just...like you two belong together? Like you’re part of the same thing, opposites that kind of, uh, attract. And you have such a nice apartment! It looks like you have your lives together, you know? You guys are totally a cohesive family unit! I’m kind of envious, actually. I have a little sister but I always wanted a big or a little brother!” Tino ended his last sentence with a sharp inhale, processing what he’d just said. “S-sorry, I’m not talking too much, am I?”

All three Bondeviks exchanged glances and smiled.

  
  


Tino had gone through all his leasing paperwork during the breakfast, as well as living regulations, which were sparse. To him, this was already shaping up to be a much better landlord experience than anything he’d dealt with before. He also exchanged pleasantries with the Bondeviks, gaining a small amount of insight into their lives while slightly letting them into his own. 

Emil was eighteen, Lukas was thirty, and Mads was thirty-one. Emil and Lukas had different dads, so they were technically half brothers. Lukas and Mads had moved to Sweden and opened  _ Flykten Nordmännen  _ three years ago after living in Norway, and married officially a year later. When Tino asked how long they’d been together, Mads quickly said “A loooong time!” and quickly changed the subject. 

_ Sounds like there’s something more to it…  _ Tino knew better than to press on the topic after that.  _ I don’t blame him for shutting it down. _

After everyone had finished, Tino insisted on helping Emil with the dishes. While they were working - Emil washing and Tino drying - Lukas asked Tino his plans for the day, to which Tino responded, “Well, I think it’d be a good thing to get furniture and food today, so I’ll most likely focus on those…” He looked down at the plate in his hands. “And something to put food  _ on. _ ”

“What about this evening?” 

Tino stopped to think for a moment, but Lukas continued before he came up with an answer. “If you aren’t doing too much, you’re free to come hang out downstairs at the bar. Fridays are surprisingly slow so it won’t be a bother.” He tilted his head slightly. “You don’t have to, but it’s an option.” 

“Thank you. I may stop by, just depends on how the day goes.”

“Makes sense.” Lukas began to step away from the sink. “I hope furniture goes well. If you’re back before three, let us know and we can potentially help you haul stuff up the stairs.”

“Oh, goodness, no, you don’t have to -” Tino began to protest, but before he could finish, he was interrupted by Mads in the den, who shouted, “Heck yeah I’ll haul it, I forgot to plan a workout today!”

Tino looked to Emil, who hadn’t reacted, and then to Lukas, who looked back at Tino with a slight gleam in his eye. “Well, I guess that settles that.”

* * *

Tino wasn’t able to give Mads the workout, as his mother had insisted on paying for both delivery  _ and _ installation; she insisted Tino double check to make sure installation was selected this time. A new couch, a small dining table with two chairs, a set of cookware, a small dresser, a small rug, a small shelf - enough to make his small apartment feel lived in. 

While browsing, he would cringe internally as he thought of all his old furniture he’d sold. His Helsinki apartment had been furnished in a somewhat luxurious way. He considered himself a homebody, so he wanted his living space to be as comfortable as possible. He’d spent ages saving his paychecks wisely to purchase “buy it for life” pieces, because he was certain he’d be keeping them for life.

_ Funny how that works. _

Either way, it had resulted in his savings account booming when selling them, giving him a nice financial cushion for this...adventure?

_ No, it’s a change, not an adventure! And if I want to have a change, I’ll go out of my way to be different in everything! Maybe even the style of furniture I have… _

He stared at a loveseat that was rococo style, with tiny curved legs of black wood and green velvet for the upholstery. The price had been slashed three times. The color reminded Tino of Tuuli vomiting on him when she was a toddler.

_ Mmmmm, maybe not the furniture. _

* * *

With no boxes or bags to worry about, Tino could plan for groceries without worry.  _ But I’m not even really sure what I want to have at home right now... side effects of a decreased appetite?  _

His phone buzzed three times in a row. His mom had sent him a Facebook event for a farmer’s market three blocks from his apartment.  _ You’re being creepy with your timing again, Äiti…  _

He stood outside the furniture store he’d just left, rocking on his heels, considering his options.  _ A farmer’s market may help me decide what to eat this week. If anything, it puts a limit on what to get... but it may be too crowded... _

He continued on like that for a few minutes until he decided to head to the market, sending his mother a quick confirmation text before retracing his earlier walk back to his apartment. From there, he headed south for three quick blocks before arriving at the edge of the market.

The booths lined the market street and seemed to extend for three or four blocks, east to west. Each stall seemed to have a different colored tent, making the street colorful with fabric as the bustle of the shopping crowd moved to and fro. It was early fall so a variety of fruits, vegetables, and mushrooms were available for purchase. The fresh vegetables, some still glistening wet from having been washed, caught Tino’s eye; he purchased carrots and onions, thinking about stopping by the store later to grab some meat for a stew. A few booths down, he purchased celery and chanterelle mushrooms. 

As he checked out with the vendor, he was thinking to himself,  _ I’m so glad I ended up coming by here. Maybe now I’ll actually look forward to making dinner! Stew can’t be that difficult, right? _

He stepped away from the booth and immediately bumped into another person. His heart rate immediately increased. 

_ Voi ei. _

“E-excuse me,” Tino said in butchered Swedish, immediately moving in the direction opposite of where he planned, wriggling his way through the increased foot traffic as fast as he could until he stepped onto the emptier sidewalk. Once out of the crowd, he double checked to make sure his wallet and groceries were still intact. 

Multiple scenarios began racing through his mind. All of them were bad.

Tino could handle crowds, but this had been more cramped than he realized, and his heart was pounding. He felt slightly lightheaded. He took some deep breaths and leaned on the door of the closed business behind him, using it to steady himself as he willed himself to calm down. 

While working to offset this recent bout of anxiety, he allowed his gaze to scan across the crowd in front of him. Most people were keeping to the street, leaning in every so often to browse the vendors’ wares. Most people were taller than Tino, with heads of blonde and brown hair quickly passing him by. Every so often he’d see a child on the head of a parent; he avoided looking at the ground, or he might fall.

Then his eyes met another’s.

Someone was looking at him.

Someone was... _ watching _ him?!

Tino didn’t take the time to register the face of the person watching him. He couldn’t. All he could make out before he began to run was that the person was  _ very _ tall, at least a head above the rest of the crowd.

The next thing he knew, he was two streets north, one hand against a signpost and the other on his knee, desperately gasping for air. His toes felt slightly numb and his chest was tight. He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes, and he tried his hardest to focus on taking deep breaths, counting as he went, straightening his disheveled outfit after he’d somewhat lowered his heart rate. He was aware that some people in the area were looking at him, but no one stared for long as they went about their day.

If he focused on them, it would derail him anyway.

He noticed that a few of his groceries had flown out of his paper bag. Behind him, they were scattered on the street from where he’d run. 

_ Right! Running! I was running. Why was I running? I was afraid... _

Tino tried his hardest to focus in the mental fog he was experiencing, but his gut was gnawing at him to keep moving, away from the farmer’s market, away from whatever had caused this bout of anxiety to get so bad in the first place.

He finished his walk to his apartment at a brisk pace, thinking all the while, internal monologue raging.

_ So, I picked up the mushrooms and paid for them...then I turned around? And bit my tongue...because I bumped into someone! Right! I bumped into them and said excuse me, I think I said excuse me...oh, what if I said something else? Okay, and I tried to move away, but there were too many people, so I went to the sidewalk. Tried to calm down. But then...eyes! Right, that tall person was watching me! They were staring at me while I was trying to calm down from the crowd stressing me out...and that made everything worse… _

He’d made it to his building now.

_ But was that really enough to get my fight or flight response to kick in?  _ Tino sighed as he opened the door.  _ Or was it just bad timing?  _

Either way, he felt ashamed, and hoped to never see the tall individual again.  _ That’s pathetic, Tino. _

He got up the stairs and into his room, put away his groceries, and quickly wrote missing ingredients on his phone, opening his GPS and planning a fast, fast,  _ fast _ trip to the corner store. 

_ As fast as freaking possible! _


	4. A Quintessential Gathering

Tino’s grocery trip proved to be uneventful. He’d stepped in, grabbed as much as his arms could carry, and quickly went through a self-checkout, leaving without making eye contact with a single person. He hummed to himself as he put this second round of groceries away, feeling slightly victorious. 

After everything was unpacked, he laid on his kitchen floor, staring at the ceiling and listening to nothing but the sound of his own thoughts.

_ Today has been so stupidly stressful. Well, now that I have food in here, I don’t have to leave in order to keep myself alive...I have stuff to eat and a place to sleep and electricity! I could just hide out in here until work on Monday. _

He frowned.

_ But all of my personal items I had shipped aren’t coming until tomorrow...so that’s my PC...I could read, but I doubt I could keep my mind on it. And it’s too early to just take a shower and go to bed. _

He placed his hands on his temples.

_ It’s not good for me to just sit around and sulk...I’ll focus too much on earlier. _

His mind wandered to the morning and Lukas’s invitation, and then to the conversation he’d had with his sister the previous night. Curious, he opened his PayPal account; sure enough, Tuuli had sent him money for “TWO SHOTZ”, as the notes section stated.

_ Well. If Tuu’s pushing me to drink, may as well. _

* * *

Five minutes after the bar opened, Tino slipped through the front door as quietly as possible. He was the first patron of the night, and he wasn’t sure if that made him comfortable or nervous. As he walked up to the bar, he heard familiar techno-pop-funk playing through the speakers; it was a song he recognized, which surprised him, since it was a small internet musician who hadn’t gotten further than Bandcamp or Spotify.

As he reached the bar and sat in a stool, Mads popped out from the back. “Oh!” He stopped walking, backtracked, and leaned back so his head popped through the doorway. “He did come.” He then straightened up and walked up to where Tino was sitting. “Ya made it! No boxes or anything?”

“No, I’m getting it all delivered.” 

“Man, you are  _ fancy! _ ” He stepped back to the wall of bottles behind him, rearranging them slightly. “Anything ticklin’  _ your _ fancy?” He made a broad gesture to the wall of alcohol. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you like...vodka?” He turned his head to face Tino, a large grin on his face and his eyebrows wiggling. 

Tino chuckled. Even with the day he’d had, Mads’s attitude was contagious. “Sure, sure, whatever kind you have.”

While Mads walked to a spot further down on the bar wall, Lukas appeared and floated over to where Tino was sitting. “Glad you could make it. Did furniture and food go well?”

“Oh, hei, Mr. Bon - Lukas!” Despite Mads’s friendliness, Lukas was still his landlord, and he still felt like he needed to traipse the relationship’s path delicately. “Um, yes, things went well, and I have stuff getting delivered tomorrow, b - but it’s when the bar is closed! I hope that’s ok, I think I can carry all the boxes by myself…”

Tino trailed off as Mads approached the duo, set of shot glasses in one hand and a bottle of vodka in another. “Relax, guy! We’re treatin’ tonight as a celebration!” He sat the glasses on the counter and began pouring vodka into each glass.

“Celebration?”

“You’re our first ever tenant, so we thought maybe we’d celebrate becoming landlords,” Lukas began, “but I think all three of us have taken a liking to you and wanted to see if you wanted to celebrate with us.” 

“Ah-” Tino  _ knew _ he was blushing but wasn’t going to be able to make himself stop.  _ What do I even say to that? _ “Th-that quickly?”  _ Oh, now that was smooth, wasn’t it, Tino? Ugh. _

“Yup!” Mads slammed the vodka bottle down on the counter. “I hope ya like koskenkorva, Tino.”

He then went to the back room; Tino presumed it was to grab Emil, since there were four shot glasses on the counter.

“Koskenkorva is good, I can drink too much if I’m not careful.” 

While looking at Lukas, waiting for Mads and Emil, Tino’s attention was drawn back to the music on the speakers.

“Lukas, did you choose this song?”

“Hmm?” Lukas blinked. “No, Emil did. We let him play his music on Fridays since we’re usually slow.”

“Well, he has good taste in music.” Tino cocked an eyebrow. “And how are you slow on Fridays, of all weekdays?”

“Beats me. Been like that since we got here.” As Lukas spoke, Emil appeared from behind him, followed by Mads. “Oh, Emil. Tino complemented your music choice.”

Emil’s cheeks went pink and he looked at his feet. “Uh. Thanks. I really like this group.”

Tino smiled and relaxed slightly, relieved at a shared interest to use for any potential conversation in the future. “I do too!”

Emil stared at Tino, but couldn’t say anything, as Mads placed a shot glass in front of each of the four men. “Gentlemen, a toast,” he announced with a booming voice, “to our new neighbor!” He raised his shot glass in the air, not spilling a drop of alcohol.

The other three raised their own glasses, quietly, and not as high. Then the four drank their shots simultaneously.

“Hyck-!” Emil made a face and a disgruntled noise after he’d gotten it all down. “That was too much, and kind of gross. I’m tapping out on liquor for the night.” He took his shot glass to the back room, yelling over his shoulder, “I’m getting a glass of wine.” 

Mads shuddered as he finished his shot, and Lukas didn’t react.

Tino, meanwhile, was reaching for his wallet. “Give me two more.”

Mads took his card with a wink. “First one was on the house!” He walked down the bar to a register, opening a tab.

Tino turned to face Lukas. “You guys are drinking on the job?”

Lukas smirked. “This is the only day of the week we do so. When I say it’s slow, it’s  _ slow _ , so we usually drink and chat together.”

“Oh, that sounds kind of nice.” Tino placed his elbow on the counter and leaned into his hand. “Is it just you guys and Emil?” 

“We have a few people that will stop by on special occasions, but usually we have an old friend of Mads’s come drink with us.” Lukas checked his watch. “He should be here soon, actually.”

When Lukas looked up to see the discomfort plain as day on Tino’s face, he tried to give a reassuring smile, reaching out and touching Tino’s other hand. “Don’t worry, he’s a very nice man and a man of few words. I don’t think he could hurt a fly if he tried.” The smile grew slightly. “He’s a close family friend.” 

Tino squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slightly. “I was making a face, wasn’t I?” Lukas nodded. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I really can’t.” He placed both elbows together on the table and shoved his face into his hands. “This has just been kind of stressful, you know? This…” He trailed off.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah. I know.” He heard Lukas lean closer. “I can tell you’re going through a rough time. Your poker face could use some work...well, if you ever want to get stuff off your chest I can provide an ear, and I’m not too far away.” 

Tino lifted his head to look at Lukas in slight disbelief right as Mads came back with Tino’s card. He passed it to him and began refilling his shot glass.

Tino silently lifted the glass as a toast to Mads, who belted out a laugh as Tino downed the shot. 

As Mads refilled the glass for a second time, Tino muttered, just loud enough to hear, “Thank you for your hospitality. Seriously. It’s appreciated right now.”

Lukas and Mads exchanged knowing glances, grinning.

All three of them were then distracted by a muffled  _ thud _ coming from the entrance.

Tino turned in his stool, shot glass still in hand, to see that someone had entered the bar.  _ This must be the Bondeviks’ friend? _

The man, keeping his head down, stepped aside to the coat rack by the door, removing his coat and facing away from the bar. Even from across the room, Tino could tell he was a tall man, taller than him for sure.

_ Hmmmm. _

That didn’t stop Mads. “Hey, Waldy!” he bellowed across the room.

The man froze as he was about to place his coat on a hook. From behind him, he could hear Mads snickering.  _ That must be a nickname he doesn’t like. _

Instead of speaking, the man stayed frozen for another moment before placing his coat on the hook. He then turned around, showing shortly cropped blonde hair..

_ Wait. _

His eyes, 

which reminded Tino of photos he’d seen of the Mediterranean Sea, 

were familiar. 

They were  _ way _ too familiar.

_ Was this the guy staring at me at the market earlier?!  _

Tino couldn’t look at him any longer and spun back to face the bar.  _ How in the hell does this happen. This is a big city. What are the odds… _ Unable to figure out if he should say anything, he quickly drank the shot of koskenkorva in his hand before he could spend any more time thinking about the situation.

Lukas and Mads were thankfully distracted by the tall man’s arrival. Both of them had shuffled a few meters down the bar to greet him and speak to him, but Tino wasn’t sure if he was saying anything back.

Tino wasn’t that focused on them, anyway. He was making a fist, so hard his nails were on the verge of breaking skin, focusing on his breathing.  _ I don’t want Lukas and Mads to know what happened. They’ll think I’m nuts. They’ll kick me out. And they’ve been so nice, even if it’s been kind of speedy with the niceties. Oh, hell,  _ he _ probably thinks I’m nuts! He’s going to ask me what happened! Please don’t mention it, please don’t mention it, please don’t mention it… _

“Ah, Tino?” Lukas turned his head in Tino’s direction and spoke up to get his attention. Tino looked up from the laminate of the bar, rose from his stool, and strode over to the three men, straining to keep his eyes focused on Lukas while also not tripping.

His body was moving on its own at this point. He didn’t have enough mental power to think about it.

“Tino, this is our friend, Berwald,” said Lukas, as he mentioned to the tall man. Tino swallowed and forced himself to look at him.

He was, indeed, very tall, taller than even Mads. His hair was neatly cut with pronounced sideburns, and he wore silver rimless glasses that fit his facial profile. He was smartly dressed in a button down and trousers in muted colors. His cheek and jaw bones were very pronounced.

He was very handsome.

He was just Tino’s type.

Tino’s stomach began to churn, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the koskenkorva or the man staring at him.

After a moment of awkward staring, the man cleared his throat and extended his left hand. “Berwald Oxenstierna…” As he finished his last name, he got quieter and trailed off, looking down.

_ Weird name! _

Tino mentally slapped himself for thinking that and met Berwald’s hand with his own. “I’m Tino Väinämöinen! It’s nice to meet you!” 

He felt his heart rate spike at the moment their hands touched.

_ Calm down, Tino. He’s a cordial acquaintance right at this moment. Cordial acquaintances are what you do best. _

He shook Berwald’s hand and shot him a plastic smile, his customer service smile, the one that always won him over when he worked in retail. He also hoped laying on the charm would get him to not mention their earlier...incident.

He was surprised when Berwald wouldn’t meet his eyes, his lips pursed tightly, and quickly turned to Lukas. “The usual?”

“You got it.” Lukas moved away from the group to make whatever Berwald’s usual drink was. Tino sat quietly, unsure how to proceed.

Thank goodness Mads proceeded for him. “Hey, I just noticed - you guys both have weird ass names!” He clapped Berwald on the shoulder. “I tease Waldy here for his name all the time, but now I have someone else to rile on, eh, Waldy?” He shot Berwald a grin, only to receive the scariest glare Tino had ever seen.

“Stop with the nickname, Mads,” called out Lukas from the other end of the bar. “You pissed him off enough.” 

Mads chuckled and shot Berwald a grin. “Have I?” 

Berwald grunted in response and sat in the bar stool to the right of Tino.

Emil walked through the doorway to the back room. “Oh, hey Berwald.” Emil walked out of the bar space and took the seat to Tino’s left, sitting a glass of white wine on the counter. He then leaned towards Tino, angling his phone screen to show a Spotify playlist. “Got any requests off of here?”

Tino brushed his finger against the screen, glancing through the list of songs. He was surprised to find he knew the majority of songs and artists. After a moment of contemplation, he selected a song with album artwork depicting a heavily edited Sailor Moon on the cover.

Emil took a sip of his wine as the music began to play through the speakers, a funky bass line filling the empty corners of the bar. “Good choice.”

“Thanks!” Tino smiled at him. Now that the alcohol had been in him for a few minutes, he was just starting to feel a slight buzz.

Lukas brought back a large stein of beer and placed it in front of Berwald, who nodded. Then he pulled a stool from underneath the bar, looking back to Mads. “Would you make me something?”

“Sure! Want anything else, Tino?”

“Mmm, surprise me.” 

As Mads went off to do more bartending, Lukas broke the silence between the other four. “So, Tino, you said your new job was at a software developer?” 

“Oh, yeah! It's for an app developer. Since I do a lot of support stuff and not really  _ development  _ stuff, I’m flexible with where I can work.” 

Emil leaned on the bar. “Where did you work before?”

“A video game developer.” 

Emil raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“WHAT?!” shouted out Mads from further down the bar. “You made  _ video games _ ?!” 

“No, I did support stuff for games other people made!” Tino responded, trying to throw his voice so Mads could hear him clearly. He then faced the group sitting around him. “I did a lot of one on one troubleshooting and handling purchases and stuff. It sucked.” 

“Why did it suck??” Mads was back in a flash and sat a shot glass - more koskenkorva - and some mixed drink in front of Tino, before placing something cranberry colored in front of Lukas.

“Well, you know the whole stereotype about how kids who play online games say rude things on voice chat for fun?” 

“Stereotype? Pssh.” Emil scoffed “It’s not a stereotype, it’s a demographic.”

“You’re telling  _ me _ !” Tino took a pause to down his fourth shot of the night. “I’ve worked some crap jobs, but I have  _ never _ had people talk the way to me they did at my last job.” He grabbed the surprise mixed beverage; it was brown and had several lemons inside the glass. “After a while you just get numb to it, to the point where you show coworkers and joke about them to take the harshness off their words.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Now I’ll just have to work with coworkers and other companies, and I am so looking forward to that!” 

“I bet you saw some cool stuff there, though, right?” Mads asked as he took a seat with a stein matching Berwald’s. 

Tino noticed Berwald was steadily watching him while sipping his beer.

“I guess. We got to see everything in development. I’m still under a nondisclosure agreement so I can’t really talk about it.” He scratched the back of his head absentmindedly, lost in the buzz that was hitting him and mixing with memories of his previous career.

“Wow, that sounds super secret!” Mads looked impressed.

Lukas turned to Berwald. “Did you have to sign one of those for your job?” 

Berwald just shook his head in response and took another drink of beer. His eyes were fixated on his glass.

Tino, who had gotten drunk enough to take the edge off of their earlier interaction, swiveled in his stool to face Berwald. “Oh, where do you work?”

Berwald seemed surprised; he blinked and cleared his throat. “Software developer. Net security stuff.” He sat his glass down. “Codin’.”

“Oh! That doesn’t sound so bad. I really envied the programmers at my old job, they had it so easy.” He leaned on the bar and took a sip of his drink; it just tasted like alcohol. “Their schedules were super loose.”

“How do you even get into an industry like that, anyway?” 

Tino turned to look at Lukas. “Good question. I just threw my resume at any company with an opening after I graduated university. That just kind of ended up being the place.” 

“Whoa!!” Mads was leaning so far forward in his stool, he nearly fell over. “Holy hell, Tino, your story is nuts!” 

“You’ve only had one job since university?” asked Lukas. “That’s impressive.”

“Why’d ya leave?”

Everyone turned to face Berwald. 

Tino tilted his head in slight confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“Why’d ya come to Sweden?” His brow was furrowed, as if he was thinking. “Ya left...yer home.” 

He awkwardly coughed into his hand and went back to nursing his drink.

Tino hummed quietly as he leaned into the bar. Normally, he would have been put off by the sudden question from his quiet bar neighbor. But he was thoroughly buzzed, on the verge of drunk, and kept finding himself _staring_ at the man.

“Wellll, I wanted a change. Kind of simple, right?” He smiled.

“A new country is a big change…” Lukas seemed to be thinking.

“Why did you pick Sweden?” asked Emil.

“Well I learned some Swedish in primary school, and I was exposed to a bunch of it! And believe me, I weighed my options! Have you read about the process of moving to Canada? It's a big deal...”

At this point, Tino launched into a full drunken tirade, ranting about the complications of moving to foreign countries all while being kind of ridiculous about it. His delivery managed to get everyone but Berwald laughing by the time he finished.

And like that, the group of five fell into discussion, sharing everything from childhood stories to the happenings of the previous week, Tino and Mads leading the discussion. 

After about an hour, the group heard the door to the bar open. A group of older gentlemen, around twelve to fourteen, slowly wandered into the bar. From their voices, Tino could tell they were English speakers.

Upon seeing the men walk in, Lukas and Mads simultaneously rose from their stools and meandered to one of the bar registers, beginning to chat with their new clientele in English.

“Tourists,” muttered Emil. He also rose from his stool. “Gonna get more wine...and maybe change songs.” He walked around the bar and disappeared into the back room.

Tino and Berwald were now alone. Tino, however, was drunk enough to where he was in his own little world. He took a swig of his mixed drink with some theatrics, and made a face when the full force of the alcohol hit him. “Hoo boy! I wonder what’s in this.” He then lowered his head until it was even with the glass, staring at the liquid inside.  _ Part of it is vodka. And maybe rum? I wonder if there’s some kind of soda in it… _

While Tino was mulling over his drink’s components, he heard Berwald’s voice to his right. “Hey.”

Tino angled his head where he could see Berwald. “Hmmm?”  _ Man, I wish I could get a photo of this guy. _

“Are y’ok?”

The question struck Tino as strange. He sat up. “What do you mean? I mean, I’m kind of drunk, but other than that I’m fine.”

“Ah -” Berwald bit his lip. His expression was unreadable to Tino. “I meant earlier. A’ the farmer’s market.”

All of the drunken warmth slowly began to dissipate from Tino’s body. He’d managed to temporarily forget his earlier public bout of anxiety, but he remembered fully now. He couldn’t put it off any longer; he had to address it.

However, whereas Tino would normally handle a situation like this delicately, and with hesitation, Tino was _drunk_. 

He swiveled in his seat to fully face Berwald. “Were you the person starin’ at me?” He pointed a finger at Berwald, whose eyes went to Tino’s hand for a second before nodding.

He still had the same unreadable expression, but Tino saw he was biting his lip harder. This served to be a momentary distraction for the drunken Finn, who - without thinking - poked him in the cheek and pouted, “Hey! Don’t chew on your lip like that or it’ll bleed for a week! And trust me, chapstick will not do anythin’ for it!”

Berwald didn’t move, staring at Tino’s hand, floating centimeters from his face. If Tino wasn’t too focused on keeping his hand there ( _ Gotta keep it at the right spot for dramatic effect! _ ), he would have noticed the taller man’s face slowly getting overwhelmed by a rosy blush.

After what Tino thought was a second (but was probably closer to twenty seconds), he slowly lowered his hand back to his side. “Sorry! I get kinda intense when I get drunk.” He bent over and laid his head on the bar counter. “But yeah I’m okay, I was just really stressed out. Can we just not talk about it ever again please?"

Berwald didn’t respond, and Tino didn’t try to continue the conversation. The air was slightly awkward after their exchange. They sat in silence, both seemingly lost in thought, until Mads’s voice got their attention.

“What’s up? Why’re we sulking?” Mads practically fell into his stool and resumed drinking his beer like he’d never left. 

“Mads, whatever drink you gave me is hitting me like a freight train,” Tino groaned from his stool. 

“Good to know! I’ll keep it in mind for whenever you come back.” He shot Tino a wink. 

Lukas had also arrived at this point. “Where’s Emil?” he asked as he sat down.

“Back,” muttered Berwald. His voice sounded strained. 

Lukas cocked an eyebrow at his response but didn’t say anything.

“Well, we’ve got some time to kill, those old Brits should be good for a while!” Mads began rocking in his stool. “Does anyone remember what we were talkin’ about?”

“Beats me,” moaned Tino from the bar counter.

“Oh, I had a question for you, Tino,” Lukas started.

“Mmm?” Tino slowly began sitting upright.

“Are you single?”

Tino shot upright and froze. 

_ Ah -  _

The air instantly became icy. The buzz of the alcohol completely dissipated. 

_ I knew someone was going to ask me this eventually. _

The edges of his vision grew darker.

_ I thought I was prepared to talk about this. _

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat, but it probably didn’t matter.

_ Why is it so difficult to answer? It’s not like I have to talk about everything. _

Everything was spinning wildly.

“Tino?” Who said his name? Was it Lukas? He didn’t know. 

He didn’t care. He needed to leave.

He felt himself standing. He heard himself muttering. Something like “excuse me.” He heard questions, felt someone touch his arm, then a shout. 

He felt keys in his hand as he opened the foyer door - when did he get outside? 

He felt pain when he tripped walking up the stairs, hitting his knee and head at the same time. White spots flecked in his blurry vision for a moment. 

Then all he could feel were his bedsheets as he gripped the mattress, his pillowcase wet from his tears, tense and wide-eyed and guarded until exhaustion gave way to slumber.


	5. Blossoming Kinship

_It was very cold and very quiet. Tino rose from his bed - had he taken an afternoon nap? - and glanced at his phone._

_It was pitch black outside, and his phone read 00:00. Why did he feel wide awake? He swung his legs out of his bed and stood, walking to the door and opening it slowly._

_As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized he was in his childhood home in Jyväskylä._

_The door to his left was covered in a child’s drawings and had a “Princess” sign hanging in the center, indicating Tuuli’s room._

_He didn’t see his parents’ bedroom door. It was too dark in the hall._

_He stepped out into the upstairs hallway, closing the door behind him. A light turned on downstairs, in the living room._

_Tino held his breath as he quietly crept downstairs. He instinctively avoided the second step down so it wouldn’t squeak._

_It was deathly quiet downstairs. Tino didn’t see anyone. He wondered how the light had turned on._

_As he edged closer to the living room, he heard a drip._

_Drip._

_Was it coming from the kitchen sink?_

_Drip._

_No, it was coming from the living room._

_Drip._

_His heart raced as he inched into the living room._

_Drip._

_His old family couch was red. That’s weird. Wasn’t it usually brown?_

_Drip._

_The dripping noise was coming from the couch._

_Drip._

_He looked up at the ceiling._

_It was covered in blood._

_Drip._

_He watched the blood fall onto the couch._

_Drip._

_His entire body trembled as he slowly_

_slowly_

_slowly moved around the couch._

_A dull whine filled his ears. It clawed at his brain._

_Something was banging. It matched the pounding of his head._

_He couldn’t see. Everything was colors._

_Something was shrieking! Screaming!_

_He fell to his knees in front of the couch. He was screaming now._

_A slumped figure was on the couch now._

_It raised a hand. It pointed at him._

_Through the screams, the words cut through his head, clear as day._

_YOU DID THIS TO ME._

* * *

Tino woke with a start. A soft light was coming through his bedroom window. He was still dressed in the jeans and shirt he’d worn yesterday. He noticed that his eyes felt puffy, and his head ached.

His phone hadn’t charged overnight like it usually did; he had forgotten to plug it in. He saw it was still early in the morning, plugged it in, and rolled out of his bed to head to the kitchen. 

He was having a hard time remembering the details of last night, but he knew he was having furniture delivered at midday.

As he poked his head into his new fridge, he burped, tasting the burn of alcohol. It was then he remembered he’d gotten drunk in the bar downstairs.

His head was pounding.

_I’m hung over. Joy._

He rolled his eyes and searched his cabinets for a glass, cursing when he remembered that he had just moved and the dinnerware he’d purchased wasn’t arriving until later. 

Frustrated, he let water from the sink run into his cupped hands before lifting them to his mouth. Water dripped all over his shirt. He felt gross since he hadn’t showered the night before, so he resigned himself to a cold shower to clean up and calm his headache.

He headed into the bathroom and stopped in front of the vanity mirror.

The skin around his eyes was swollen and red. Underneath them, dark circles he’d had for weeks were heavily pronounced. There was also a large bruise starting to form on his forehead. He reached up and gently brushed his fingers against it, wincing at the resulting pain. 

_How did I get this?_

He jumped when he heard knocking at the door. He poked his head out of the bathroom into the hall and stared at his apartment door.

More knocking.

“Tino?” It was Lukas.

Tino held his breath. He suddenly remembered Lukas’s question from the night before. 

It had set him off.

_No wonder I had that crazy nightmare._

His head throbbed.

“Tino, it’s only me here,” Lukas continued from behind the door. “I don’t know if you can hear me...but I wanted to apologize.”

Tino sucked on his lip. On one hand, he did not want to even _look_ at anyone right now, especially with how he looked. And he was completely ashamed of his behavior last night, even if he couldn’t remember everything that happened. He was certain he'd fucked up somehow.

On the other hand, Lukas sounded upset. And Tino _hated_ when someone sounded upset, especially if it was somehow tied to actions he’d taken. And Lukas had been so nice...he didn’t know what would set him off.

He sighed. “J - just a second.”

He heard a gasp. “Ah - if you don’t want to talk to me, I understand…”

 _He sounds regretful._ Tino pinched the bridge of his nose. _He sounds like Äiti…_

“You’re okay, just give me a moment.”

He rummaged in his still-packed suitcase for a hoodie and pulled it on over his shirt. He decided to say _fuck it_ to trying to cover up his forehead bruise and opened the door. Slightly.

Lukas was slightly fidgeting as Tino opened the door. He looked up to meet Tino’s eyes as the door opened, then blinked in apparent surprise. “Your head...what happened?”

Tino looked at the floor. “Um...tripped. On the...on the stairs.” He paused. “I think.”

“Have you done anything for it yet?”

“N - no?” _What exactly would I do for it?_ “Uh, I still haven’t gotten any first aid stuff…”

Lukas’s lips pursed into a tight line. “Wait here for a minute.” He then turned around and dashed back into his apartment.

Tino stood at the door, confused and trying to ignore the throbbing of his head.

A few minutes later, Lukas had returned with a compress and pain medication. He gently placed them in Tino’s hands. “The medication should help with the pain, and use the compress to keep it from swelling too much.” 

“I…” Tino felt tears coming back. “Thank you, Lukas…” He sniffled.

Lukas placed a hand on Tino’s arm. “Are you okay?” 

Tino shrugged. “I - I’d invite you in, but I don’t have anywhere to sit…” His left eye went blurry, and he hastily rubbed the tears away, staring at the ground.

Lukas gave his arm a little squeeze. “Hey.”

Tino looked at him.

“Let’s talk. We can chat in my room, okay? No one can bother us and we won’t have to sit on the floor.” He smiled. 

Tino felt something in him break when Lukas smiled at him, and he nodded, a tear streaking down his cheek but doing nothing to stop it.

Lukas placed a hand on Tino’s back and gently led him to the Bondeviks’ apartment, ushering him up the stairs and into Lukas’s and Mads’s bedroom. Mads was thankfully absent from the room.

“Take a seat, okay? I’ll grab you some water.” Lukas turned and stepped outside the room, closing the door behind him. Tino sighed and sat on the bed, placing the compress to his bruised forehead and wiping the tears from his face.

The room was painted a dark, indigo blue. String lights wrapped around the top of the walls, eventually dropping down by a small wooden desk with a laptop sitting on it. The window was framed with blackout curtains. The walls were decorated with framed movie posters; Tino didn’t recognize any of them, but they all had a weirdly goofy feel to them. A closet was left open, with clothes haphazardly dangling off of hangers. A television sat atop a large, old-fashioned chest. There were two nightstands, one on each side of the bed. One nightstand had a basket full of oversized yarn similar to the macramé tapestry downstairs.

The door opened again, and Lukas reappeared with a glass of water.

“Thank you.” Tino’s voice cracked as he took the glass. He tossed the pain medication into his mouth and took a large swig, the cold from the water bringing instant relief to his pounding head.

Lukas sat beside Tino and patiently waited as Tino downed the entire glass of water. When the glass was empty, he took the glass back.

“So you tripped going up the stairs?” Lukas leaned forward and grabbed the compress from Tino. He lifted it up to look at the skin. “It’s probably just bruised. Your forehead will be purple for a bit, though.” 

“I think that’s how it happened.” Tino winced when the compress was placed back on the bruise. “I don’t remember everything…” 

Lukas hummed quietly. 

“I remember you asking me if I was single, then not much else.” Tino took a deep breath. “Did I do anything stupid after that?”

Lukas looked a little surprised. “You excused yourself and didn’t say anything else. Mads called out to you but you didn’t respond.” He bit his lip. “I think we were all kind of worried about you getting up and leaving so abruptly.”

Tino raised his free hand and slapped it on his face. _So I did do something stupid._ “I’m really sorry about that. I just started feeling ill all of a sudden.”

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Lukas protested. “I should have known better than to ask something so sensitive.” 

_Wow, it was that obvious?_

Tino lowered his hand and faced Lukas. He was consistently surprised at Lukas’s generosity, which contrasted with his own feelings about himself. He also didn’t have anything to offer to Lukas, other than an income with a rent payment. 

_I just don’t understand this guy._

Tino decided to let his guard down. Just a little.

“Would you like to hear the answer?” His voice shook.

Lukas blinked. “I’ll let you decide. It’s your information to disclose, after all.”

His face was neutral, but there was a shred of care somewhere in there. It seemed like he was trying to retain some neutrality, not be too overbearing.

Giving him space and time.

_I don’t understand him, but I think I can trust him. Just a little._

He looked away and cast his eyes to a movie poster hanging on the wall. 

“Well...I’m divorced.” 

Lukas didn’t say anything, and Tino didn’t see if he reacted. The poster had large, red handprints, with “IT’S SHOCKING” printed in bold across the top.

“I got married really young, before I’d grown up all the way and learned enough about myself.” He sat the compress in his lap. “I was naïve and impatient.” He looked at the compress, chilling his thigh.

Lukas placed his hand on top of Tino’s. “What led to the end? If you want to say.” 

Tino knew he’d cry, but that didn’t stop the small jump of surprise when he noticed tears rapidly streaming down his face. He struggled to get the words out. He felt a muscle in his jaw tense up - that would hurt for a day or two.

“I - I couldn't live a lie anymore..."

_Deep breath. In. Out._

"I was married to a woman. I'm...gay." He felt his jaw clench, teeth gritting against one another, sending small shocks through his head; his tear ducts worked overtime to get the tears falling.

The look in Lukas’s eyes changed, mouth strained, and he suddenly enveloped Tino in a hug. Tino, unable to contain his emotion any longer, head aching and nerves shot, dug his fingers into Lukas’s sleeves and sobbed. Lukas gently rubbed a hand on Tino’s back, humming tunelessly, swaying slightly, until Tino’s sobs subsided and he was left with puffy eyes and hiccups.

“I’m sorry I cried all over you,” Tino said as he sat up and wiped his eyes. “That’s _so_ inappropriate to do to a landlord.”

Lukas made a _pssh!_ sound and waved his hand in the air. “Can we just drop the whole landlord and tenant thing? It’s so stuffy. Let’s just call it friends, one of whom rents an apartment to the other.”

_I don’t deserve friends._

“But…” Tino looked on the verge of crying again. “But all I’ve done is eat your food and be a nuisance…”

“Tino.” The sharp tone caught Tino’s full attention, and he did his best to keep his sobs in check. “You aren’t a nuisance. First, you’re paying me money, which _immediately_ puts you in the ‘not a nuisance’ category. Second, you have been nothing but kind and cordial since you arrived. Third, I think Mads would be hitting on you if I wasn’t around.” 

Tino immediately blushed and looked at his lap. _Don’t know what to think of that so I’m not going to think about it right now!_

Lukas leaned closer and lowered his volume slightly. “I could tell from the moment I saw you that you had a lot on your shoulders. Looking at you, I saw myself when I was younger. The same worries were etched on my face. My past has reared its ugly head many times.” He paused. “Mads and I have been through a lot of shit in our past. And we’ve faced similar issues, Mads even more than me. I won’t go into it, because it isn’t one hundred percent my story to tell, but trust me,” he smiled, “Mads and I understand, because Mads and I are _gay as hell_.” 

Lukas’s last statement earned him a chuckle from Tino. “I guess you’re right.” He smiled, and his shoulders finally lost some of their tension. “Thank you, Lukas. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me so far.” More tears. “Sorry I’m such a crybaby.”

"Stop apologizing! You're okay." A moment of hesitation. "Are you out?"

Tino thought for a second. "I guess. I don't want to not be, and my family knows. You're just the first person I've told that I'm not related to."

_Change the subject. This is getting to be too much._

Then he remembered something he’d been wanting to ask. “Oh! Lukas. That tapestry in the living room…” His eyes drifted to the yarn on the nightstand. “Did you make it?”

Lukas nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Wow, Lukas! You’re so talented!” Tino’s eyes lit up. “I love it! You should sell them, they’d sell so fast! People would love them! It’s so pretty!”

Now it was Lukas’s turn to look embarrassed, which got a chuckle out of Tino.

* * *

After the eventful morning, Tino got a shower and spent the day unpacking in his apartment. His personal belongings were delivered slightly earlier than he expected, so he had just finished carrying his things from the bar to his place when furniture arrived. Thankfully, the delivery company brought the boxes upstairs so he wouldn’t have to.

He sat on his suitcase as he watched workers from the furniture store assemble his couch. He pulled out his phone and wrote a note to get a floor lamp when he had time. He then launched a game, playing for a few moments before his phone buzzed with the arrival of a text message.

_Tino! This is Lukas. Just getting you my phone number. Also - Mads was wondering if he could have your number too?_

Tino wasn’t surprised; he’d had to write his number down for his application, after all. _Got it, thanks! And sure, you can give it to him._

About a minute later, he received two text messages from two different numbers.

_GUESS WHO THIS IS!_

Tino rolled his eyes. He wrote back a quick _Hi, Mads_ and looked at the second message.

_It’s Emil. Heard Lukas say your number. You’re cooler than my brothers. We should hang out sometime._

Tino was shocked. He wasn’t even aware he’d made an impact on Emil whatsoever. Maybe from the shared music tastes? _Yeah, sure thing!_ was all he could think for a response.

He then found his thoughts wandering to Berwald, the tall man he’d met last night. _That guy was way too attractive…_ Tino sighed internally, trying not to act dramatic in front of the furniture store employees. _I felt like a complete fool every time I looked at him…_ He shook his head. _I don’t think I’m ready to be in a relationship yet, anyway. And I have no idea what to do...how do you even ask someone...those kinds of questions…_

He began feeling slightly dizzy, so he put his phone away and resolved to not think about it again for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

By early evening, his furniture was assembled and arranged, and he’d managed to unpack some of his personal items. Pots and pans had been washed and placed in cabinets. In the living room, books were arranged neatly on a bookshelf; several video game consoles were hooked up to a television opposite the couch, with several posters above the television. A small high-pile rug was beneath the couch. A small dresser held items that couldn’t fit in the closet, and had several framed photos of his family across the top. 

As he placed the photos on the dresser, he was reminded that he hadn’t contacted his cousin since he informed him of the move. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.

_Eduard! Finally all moved in today. Not worried about job. Neighbors are pretty chill. This would be an awesome place for us to get shitfaced together!_

He stared at the photo of the two of them, taken in their last year of secondary school. Both of them took after their mothers, with round faces and pale blond hair; they had been mistaken for siblings on more than one occasion. They had been incredibly close as young children, but grew distant as they got older and saw each other less. They’d reconnected in their last year of secondary school and grew closer than ever while in university, even though Eduard had elected to go to university in his father’s native Estonia. Once a month, they would get together in Tallinn or Helsinki and perform a tour of whatever bars would let them in, getting plastered every time, sometimes with friends. 

Tino fondly thought back to their last bender two months ago, when Eduard had been incredibly stressed about a girl he’d been interested in. “Tino, she’s sooooooo sweet,” he’d slurred out, “but every time I get within a meter of her I forget how to talk!”

“Dude, you gotta impress her! You -” Tino paused to hiccup - “you gotta make her think of ya when yer not there!” He’d then fallen out of his chair, causing both of them to dissolve into howling laughter.

Eduard didn’t know the secrets he’d been hiding at the time; he didn’t know about the divorce until it was over. He’d been upset with Tino for keeping it a secret, but he understood.

Tino hadn’t talked about it much more. Too much had been going on.

He was brought back to reality when his phone buzzed; Eduard had already responded.

_TINO!! You already left?! Aunt Em wouldn’t tell me when you were leaving. Mom’s a wreck. She wanted to see you before you left. You got a job?! Dude I haven’t talked to you in ages and I’ve been worried sick._

Tino bit his lip. He _had_ been keeping Eduard in the dark quite a bit. 

_I’m sorry. You know a lot of things happened in not a lot of time. Dealing with it all took a toll and I thought the new start thing would be better sooner than later._

Another response.

_I get it. I’m just worried about YOU. Mom said you have to take medication now?_

Tino swallowed.

_Yeah. The psychiatrist said it’s only temporary though._

He sent the text.

_Well idc about that, just want you to be OKAY. so if it helps it helps. Hey I’m free tonight, let’s hop on Discord and play something light like Terraria or Minecraft._

He sighed. That went over better than he thought.

_Still gotta get the PC set up. Plan for tonight. I’ll let you know when I got it going._

He sent the text, glanced at the _Sounds good!_ he received in response, and then grabbed the large box with “FRAGILE” written on every inch of the cardboard. 

* * *

He was an hour into setting up his desktop, hooking his monitors into the case, when he heard a knock on the door. He stopped what he was doing and quickly walked to the door, opening it.

It was Berwald.

“I -” To say Tino was surprised would be an understatement. “Um, hi.”

_Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no._

“Yer head…”

Tino’s hand went up to the bruise on his forehead. “Oh, yeah, uh...I fell.” He looked at his feet, too embarrassed to make eye contact. _He probably thinks I’m a fool._

“Ah.” Berwald hesitated for a second, then continued. “I wanted to say sorry...for starin’ and makin’ yer stress get worse.” He held out a paper bag.

Tino looked up and gingerly accepted the bag, opening it slightly and peeking inside. “Oh!” He saw a small loaf of sourdough bread and some random pastries. “That’s so kind of you!” He met Berwald’s gaze and smiled. “Thank you, Berwald.” 

Before Berwald could react, the door to the Bondeviks’ apartment flew open. “Waldy! Tino!”

Mads stepped into the hall and slammed the door behind him. 

Tino heard Berwald groan beside him. “Quit callin’ me that, Mads.”

“I will when I’m dead!” Mads grinned. “Anyway, Lukas told me to tell you that you’re invited to dinner tomorrow night!” He looked at Tino. “And when I say you, I mean both of you.” 

“Uh -” Tino had questions.

“If you have questions, text Lukas and ask him, I gotta head to the bar!” Mads turned and sprinted down the stairs. “See ya!” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran outside.

The two men stood and stared after him for a second. 

“Hm. That’s Mads for ya.” Berwald glanced at Tino. “Wanted to ask, have ya been to Stockhom b’fore?” 

Tino nodded. _Why pivot to that?_ “Once, when I was little.”

“Ah.” Tino could hear him hold his breath for a moment. “Well. If ye ever need someone to show ya around…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve lived here for a long time, and can help ya if ya want.” He averted his gaze. “To make up for stressin’ ye out. Jus’ an offer.” 

“Oh…” Tino’s heart hammered in his ears, though he couldn’t tell if it was from stress or something else. “That’s really nice of you! Um, do you want to share phone numbers? So if we wanted to we could arrange something, or something…” 

Berwald nodded, pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulled up an empty contact, and handed it to Tino. 

Tino quickly put in his name and number, then handed the phone back to Berwald. “Just send me a text and I’ll add your number!” 

Berwald nodded again, his gaze going over Tino’s shoulder into his apartment. Tino wondered what he was looking at, but it left him with a feeling of unease.

“So. Um, Berwald.” _This is getting more awkward by the second._ “I really appreciate you coming by and bringing me this bread. You really didn’t have to, because you didn’t do anything wrong, but I still appreciate it a lot.” _I just want him to go away._ “Um, I have to get back to unpacking, but let me know when you’re free and we can arrange something?”

Berwald blinked. Tino couldn’t read his expression at all. “Ah. Yeah. Sorry to bother ya.” He turned on his heel and walked towards the stairs.

For some reason, Berwald assuming he was a bother rubbed Tino the wrong way.

“Hey!” He heard his voice but didn’t process himself speaking. “You aren’t a bother! Don’t think that way!” 

Berwald didn’t stop. He walked down the stairs and out of Tino’s line of sight.

Tino stepped back inside and closed the door. He gently sat the bag Berwald had given him on the kitchen counter then sunk to the floor.

_What was that conversation just now?_

_Did I really just say that? If I did, then I’m the biggest hypocrite in Sweden._ Tino placed his head in his hands. _Why did that have to happen? Why did he have to show up? I can’t get a break._

At this point, Tino had figured out two key things about his feelings towards the tall Swedish man.

First, he already knew he had a crush on him. It was as if the man had flown in like Cupid, striking him in the chest with an arrow. Just _thinking_ about him made Tino dizzy.

Second, he was terrified of him. Part of it was his intimidating stature, constant poker face, and cold behavior; but it was also because of his attraction to him.

_Me getting into anything romantic is nothing but trouble. And I don’t think anyone is ever going to want to date me..._

He put the bread away and went back to his computer. It didn’t take him too long to finish setting his desk up, but after the awkward interaction with Berwald, he didn’t feel like spending the evening talking to Eduard. Or doing much of anything.

He took a second shower, ate a bowl of cereal, and crawled into bed, scrolling on his phone until he fell asleep.


	6. First Sunday

Tino woke up earlier than expected. The sun had barely risen and the twittering of birds he’d heard the past two nights was absent.

He sat up and stretched, feeling well rested. He rolled out of bed and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a freshly obtained bag of coffee beans from the cabinet.

He sat it on the counter and started digging through a still-unpacked box of personal belongings. _I brought my French press, right?_

He sat each item from the box on his dining table until it was empty. No French press.

_Damn it. And I gave my coffee pot to Tuuli._

He quickly debated going out to get coffee somewhere nearby, opting to go, deciding the caffeine would assist him with finishing the unpacking before dinner at the Bondeviks’. 

_Oh yeah, that’s happening._ Tino pulled out his phone, hesitating after seeing the clock flash 07:00 back at him. _It’s too early for someone who runs a bar. I’ll text him later._

He entered the bathroom to get ready, stopping when he noticed the large bruise on his forehead. It had yellowed overnight and was showing more vividly than before.

 _Thank the heavens I’m prepared for this kind of thing already,_ thought Tino, as he grabbed a small bag from the cabinet beneath the sink. He pulled out a bottle of foundation and a foundation sponge, wetting the sponge and squeezing it before placing a dollop of foundation on his other hand. He then slightly dipped the sponge in the foundation and dabbed it over the bruise, ignoring the slight discomfort it brought him. He then took powder and a brush, gently brushing powder on top of the foundation to keep it from coming off.

 _Ha. You can’t even see it._ Tino stood triumphant for another moment, admiring his own skills, before brushing his teeth and hair. _Guess marriage has_ some _perks._

He slipped on a long-sleeved shirt, joggers, and tennis shoes, then started digging in a cloth basket in his closet. “Where did I put it… ah ha!” He pulled out a well loved beanie and put it on his head. _It’s too early for anything but comfy._ He yawned.

He grabbed his keys, slipped on his wireless headphones, and headed outside, walking around to the front of the bar and down the street. He absentmindedly flipped through a Spotify playlist until his mind settled on a random song. There wasn’t a lot of traffic at the moment, and he could see a few sparse families walking on the sidewalk in different places. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

After walking for a few blocks, he saw a small café with the front doors open. The list of in-season pastries was drawn on the glass window in temporary paint marker, cutesy letters contrasting to the stiff pronunciation of the words written. Tino tried to translate all of the things on the list but could only make out half of the items.

He stepped inside and glanced around; it was a small store with large windows, letting in plenty of natural light, and five or six small tables. Only one table had anyone sitting at it. He paused his music and slipped his headphones around his neck, staring at the register and doing his best to decipher the options.

Once he had a good idea of what was available, he stepped up to the counter and ordered an iced coffee - the barista had informed him it was the best in the city, so he had to try. He quickly paid, received his coffee, and turned to sit at a table.

It was then he realized Berwald was sitting at the only occupied table, talking to another man.

 _You have_ got _to be kidding me._ Tino cursed his luck. _Hopefully he won’t notice I’m here, because I don’t want to just carry this back to the apartment._ He was riding on the fact that Berwald appeared to be in a meeting, with papers scattered across the table. 

He quickly and quietly situated himself in the table farthest from the register, tucked in a corner where he couldn’t see Berwald.

_And hopefully he won’t see me!_

Feeling satisfied, he slipped his headphones back on and opened YouTube, scrolling through his subscriptions until he saw a new music review. He settled into his chair and opened the video, sipping his coffee as it played. 

Ten minutes later, his coffee was almost entirely gone, and Tino was switching to Spotify to pull up the album he’d just watched a video on. He was listening to the album’s single and comparing his reactions to the video reviewer when he saw tall blonde hair coming his way.

_Shit._

He pretended not to notice, eyes on his phone. 

Berwald pulled up the chair opposite Tino, taking a seat. 

Tino couldn’t avoid him now. He was basically cornered.

_Why did he come over here?!_

“Oh!” Tino slid his headphones off and looked up, as if he hadn’t realized Berwald was there. “Hello.”

“Hej,” came the response. Then silence.

_I must have died. And this is my personal hell, where I’ll be tortured for all eternity._

He was getting dizzy again.

“Um, what are you doing here?” _Oh, that was tactful._

“Had a job interview, saw ya come in and thought I’d say hi,” said Berwald timidly. He looked away and lifted a hand to the back of his neck.

 _Now you made him uncomfortable! Good job, dummy!_ “Oh? What kind of job?” _Change the subject!_

“Architect.”

_Now that’s something you don’t hear every day._

“Oh wow, an architect?” Tino was surprised. “I thought you said you did programming for a software developer? That’s a change, for sure.”

Berwald’s strict facial features relaxed a little. “Just got my master’s in architecture. Codin’ was somethin’ I taught myself to pay the bills.” 

Tino was flabbergasted. “You taught yourself to code?!”

Berwald nodded.

“Man! I’m super impressed. I tried doing that, used a bunch of different methods like books and apps and websites, and I could just never get the hang of it!” Tino leaned forward and pouted. “I tried C++ and...Python? I couldn’t understand either so I just gave up on it.” 

His eyes met Berwald’s, who was staring at him with that unreadable expression again. “But I think being an architect is cool! You’ve got to be super smart to do something like that. Though I guess I already thought you were smart when you told me you did coding…” 

Berwald blushed and coughed. 

Tino stopped immediately, going rigid, his own face darkening with blush. _You’ve gone and said something stupid. Why would he look so uncomfortable otherwise?_

Awkward silence was making its way between them. 

_Why is it so awkward?!_

Tino had to try and break it before he lost his mind.

“Do you live nearby? I would assume you do, since I’ve seen you three days in a row.” 

Berwald blinked and nodded. “A few streets down. Bout half a kilometer from ya.”

“Okay. So you live in an apartment too, huh?”

“Yeah. Hopin’ to get a house sometime, this new job would make it happen a lot faster.”

Tino felt his effort to keep the conversation going and grabbed onto it.

“A house sounds so nice! Do you want a house in a neighborhood or something?”

“Mm, maybe somewhere isolated. Quiet. What about ya?”

“I want a house with a sauna big enough to fit ten people, and space for lots of dogs.”

“What, like a dog farm?”

“Why not? It’s like a shelter, but it’s on a farm.”

“‘S not a shelter if ya don’t get them adopted.”

“It could be a retirement home for old dogs!”

“Mm. Sounds charitable.”

“Well, what about you? Would you run a farm?”

“Ya ever lived near a farm? Doesn’ smell great.”

And just like that, the two had forgotten their past awkwardness, and softly talked about dream homes and farms and places to live. Berwald listened intently as Tino described his dream vacation home in articulate detail, detailing dreams of having a family and spending midsummer in Lapland, where the sun never set and getting away from the doldrums of daily life. Conversely, Tino was enthralled with Berwald’s recollection of his childhood home in the countryside of northeast Sweden, surrounded by farmland and dense woods that were perfect for an adventurous child. The longer the conversation went on, the more natural it became - a passerby could assume the two were old friends, catching up after a long time apart.

* * *

An hour passed before either one realized how much time had passed. Tino’s phone began vibrating on the table, with the caller ID pulling up his mom’s name. “Sorry,” he said as he grabbed the phone and sent a _Just one moment!_ text. “I guess time got away from me.”

Berwald nodded and stood. “Hafta get going.”

Tino arose from his seat and silently followed Berwald outside, throwing away his empty coffee cup. Once they were both outside, they said a quick goodbye and headed in opposite directions.

It was only after Tino was inside a store, looking at the coffee maker options, when he remembered that he’d see Berwald again that evening. _Potentially,_ he reminded himself. _I have no idea if he agreed or had other plans or something._

Before the morning encounter at the coffee shop, Tino would be dreading the evening, and may have even considered telling Lukas he wasn’t going to make it. 

But getting to sit and chat - well, it wasn’t really a _chat_ , it was more like a _talk_ \- it felt incredibly natural. 

Berwald had done far more listening than talking, letting Tino take the lead and answering where appropriate. When he did have his moments of conversation, Tino had been in awe; his accent became clearer as he went on, eventually speaking with a hint of something - confidence, maybe? Or was it fondness? Either way, Tino was certain he’d smiled the tiniest bit when he was reminiscing.

He could feel his face getting hot. _Again._ This guy was going to drive him crazy.

His train of thought was interrupted when his phone rang again. No doubt, it was his mom, impatient with his earlier message.

He quickly accepted the call and held the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Äi, do you know if I left my French press there?” 

* * *

_You don’t need to bring anything but yourself. Be there at 18:00._

Tino read the text from Lukas a million times. Despite the progress he’d made in his relationships with the Bondeviks, it had still only been a few days, and he was nervous about dinner. The pain he felt in his stomach reminded him of the pain he’d felt at the dinner he’d told his parents about - 

about him being gay.

Just thinking the word made him nauseous. _Still not used to this._

Part of his move was so he could be open about it. Open about who he was. He assumed that if it was nothing but strangers, people who didn’t know his past, his transgressions,

his _mistakes,_

he’d be okay.

_Well that was kind of foolish to think it would be so easy._

He threw his phone to the floor and flopped onto his bed with a groan. “Why is life so difficult?” He smashed his face into his pillow, with a thought of hoping it would smother him so he wouldn’t have to face the world this evening.

Then his phone buzzed on the floor.

Cursing modern technology and the ease of communication, Tino picked up his phone and read the message.

_Did you get those shotz????_

He wished Tuuli was in his room so she could see how hard he rolled his eyes.

_And then some. They had some nice koskenkorva._

_Good! Made friends with em yet?_

_I think? I got invited to dinner tonight._

_YEEEES look at isojä making friends. You’re going right?_

_Yes?_

_If you had said no I was going to buy a plane ticket to fly over there and smack you._

Tino chuckled. _As if you can afford it._

_Hey, I have money! You don’t know! At least I’m not partying away my pocket money like you did when you were in university!_

Tino chuckled. But before he could send a response, Tuuli sent another text:

_Are you doing any better? For realz._

He paused. He hadn’t really sat and thought about his own well-being the past few days, because too much was going on around him.

He thought about his confession to Lukas with tears running down his face, and how he’d felt relieved...relieved and _accepted._

He thought about the morning’s conversation with Berwald, and how he’d been genuinely interested in what the man had to say. How _he_ had seemed interested in what _Tino_ had to say.

_Yeah. I’m doing better._

* * *

Tino knocked on the Bondeviks’ door right on the minute, dressed in a long sleeved collared shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. Just as Lukas had requested, he brought nothing but himself.

The door opened almost immediately. 

“Hey.” Emil stepped aside and beckoned in, closing the door behind Tino as he stepped inside.

“Hey, Tino!” Mads was standing at the stove. “You made it with spooky perfect timing! I just finished!” Whatever he was cooking smelled really good.

“Thank you? I try my best to be punctual.” Tino turned to the dining table.

Berwald and Lukas were sitting next to each other, talking quietly, but stopped when Tino had fully walked in. Lukas raised a hand in greeting.

Tino, unsure of where to put himself, joined them at the table, sitting next to Berwald. He wasn’t sure how to insert himself into any previous conversation that may have been going on, so he resolved to just sit quietly and stay out of the way.

Lukas, however, wasn’t having that. “Tino. You know how you said I should make tapestries to sell?” 

“Oh?” Tino was surprised at being addressed so quickly. “Y - yes, I remember.”

“I’m making one. To sell.” Lukas grinned. “I honestly never thought of doing something like that until you mentioned it. But I brought the idea up to Berwald and he decided one would make a good Christmas present for his mother.”

Tino looked to Berwald, who nodded.

“Oh, that’s exciting!” Tino clasped his hands together. “Getting to make it for someone you know makes it that much more special. And you’ve got plenty of time to pace yourself on making it.”

He stopped and bit his tongue. He’d gone a little further than he’d intended to.

_You always talk too damn much._

He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands in his lap, choosing to stay silent.

He didn't notice the looks Berwald and Lukas shared before they went back to their conversation.

Dinner was served, a complex-looking pork stew with a celery root and pear slaw. Serving dishes were passed around the table, along with a basket of sourdough rolls. The conversation dipped to a quiet lull as serving dishes were passed from person to person. Berwald had brought a bottle of cheap brandy with him, and everyone took a glass.

As time passed, Tino felt more and more at ease with his presence in the room. (The brandy certainly didn’t hurt.) He found himself leaning into the conversations the others engaged in: Lukas’s slightly embarrassing stories about Emil as a child, which Emil either denied or deflected; Mads’s childhood dreams of being a professional hockey player; even Berwald’s gruff, short description of the firm he had interviewed for kept Tino’s attention. However, he continued to stay quiet, not asking questions, wanting to keep the focus off of him as long as possible.

_I still don't know if this is really a place I should be..._

Towards the end of dinner, Mads leaned on his elbows, looking directly at Tino.

 _Oh boy, here we go._ Tino knew a question was coming, but wasn’t as anxious as he would have been earlier. Maybe it was the brandy?

“Sooo, Ti!” It looked like Mads had also been enjoying the brandy, as he swayed with a slight buzz. “Can I ask ya something personal?”

Lukas elbowed Mads in the ribs.

Tino didn’t notice. “Ummmmm, yeah, I guess?” He was more focused on Mads's use of a nickname he'd only ever heard his sister call him.

“Do you like girls, guys, or both? Or neither, I guess.”

Anyone present in the room could hear a pin drop, the air was so thick. Lukas was glaring daggers at Mads (who was trying _very_ hard not to notice), Berwald was looking at Tino with a mix of apprehension and curiosity, and Emil was burying his head in his phone.

Everyone was undoubtedly thinking about what had happened at the bar.

Everyone but Tino, apparently. “Guys.” There was no hesitation in his answer.

Now _everyone_ was staring at him, Lukas with a smile.

Tino slowly looked from one person to another, making eye contact with everyone at the table, before leaning back and sighing. “Man! That was way easier than I thought it was going to be.”

“Is that related to the bar the other night?” Mads, without skipping a beat, asked the question on everyone (well, everyone but Lukas)’s mind.

"Mads," Lukas muttered in a warning tone.

“It's okay, Lukas," responded Tino, feeling sheepish. “I wanted to talk about this eventually." He turned to Mads. "It did. And I wanted to apologize about that...walking out like I did. I just kind of acted without thinking…” He let himself think about his reaction for a moment and cringed. “I can’t remember everything but I know I must have been rude, so -“

“Dude!” Mads leaned over the table and lightly flicked Tino’s nose with his index finger. “You’re apologizing for nothing! We were just worried, is all.” 

“Yeah,” Emil chimed in. “Everyone here likes you.” He looked to Berwald. “I think.”

Berwald rolled his eyes. “I _am_ part of everyone.” He looked at Tino. “Nothing wrong with being who ya are.”

Tino felt tears pouring down his face before he realized he was crying. “Really?...” 

“Helloooooo! Gay couple here!” Mads waved his arms in an exaggerated manner. “Really, really gay couple!”

“I - I know.” Tino hiccupped as he spoke. “Just...this is - is all very new to - to me…”

Lukas reached across the table and took Tino’s shaking hand. “We understand. Trust me, we’ve been there. If nothing else, you’ve got a support group here; everyone is at least a little interested in men.”

Tino immediately whipped his head to look at Berwald. 

Berwald blushed and looked away. Tino felt his face heat up to match as the tears dried up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lukas look at the both of them, back and forth, expression blank.

_He's thinking about this, I know it. He's reading me like a book. Why am I the one with the shitty poker face?!_

Trying to move on, he turned to Emil.

Emil lowered his eyelids and raised his eyebrows. “I have far too much going on in my life for romance.” His expression softened. “But yeah, you being gay is totally okay, dude.” With that, he looked back to his phone.

Tino simply sat, giving his mind a moment to process the past few minutes. To say he was overwhelmed at the reception of his admission would be an understatement. Tino had been _floored_ at how casually everyone took it; he was even _more_ surprised that he wasn’t as alone as he’d thought.

He hadn’t expected anyone to be so accepting of him. Not even Eduard had been accepting at first - only Tuuli had been understanding with no hesitation. But these guys, who were strangers for the majority of his life, immediately accepted him - with open arms.

Sitting here, at this dinner table of someone he’d known less than a week, Tino felt more at _home_ than he’d felt in a long time.

* * *

Later that evening, after he’d assisted with cleaning dishes and bid everyone farewell, Tino was laying in his bed; his outfit for his first day of work was hanging neatly on his closet door, and he already had the route pulled up in his maps application. Now all he needed to do was sleep.

But sleep was not showing up. Tino was too busy thinking about Berwald, Mads, Lukas, and Emil. 

Tino was excited to see them again.

He opened his message application and wrote Tuuli a quick text.

_I think I’ve already made some pretty good friends._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I have been ill the past week, including an urgent care trip; I'm hoping this passes quickly so I can focus on this story a little more.  
> Thank you for the kudos and kind words, as always.


	7. The Gang Cleans a Bar

Monday ended up being the fastest day he’d had since he arrived in Sweden. He woke up an hour before his alarm, had a filling breakfast, and had allotted enough transit time to arrive twenty minutes early. It was a good thing, because he missed his stop and had to walk a few blocks back, giving him  _ juuuust _ a few minutes before his clock in time.

Work was pleasantly boring. He was introduced to his teammates by his new manager and spent the day training, doing his best to put names to faces. By the time he clocked out in the late afternoon, it had only felt like he’d been there a few hours. He spent his commute home texting his mom, answering her questions about his first day. He was getting four texts for every one he sent, so he was somewhat invested in trying to keep up with her questions when he felt a bump on his arm.

He looked up to see that Emil had taken the seat next to him. “Hey.” 

“Oh, hi, Emil.” Tino sighed in relief for a distraction from his mother and sat his phone down in his lap. “What are you up to today?”

“Had to get cleaning supplies.” Emil nudged one of the reusable shopping bags he’d sat on the floor with his shoe. “We were lower than we thought.”

Tino’s phone buzzed twice.

“Yeah?” Tino was surprised at that, and it clearly showed in his voice. The containers in Emil’s bags were  _ large. _

“Oh, yeah, it’s cleaning night, we shut down the bar once every six months on a Monday and give it a deep cleaning. Like...taking all the bottles down, and going through stock, and stuff.” Emil let out a little sigh. “It’s kind of boring. And time consuming.”

Tino’s phone buzzed three more times.

“Someone wants to talk to you, huh?” Emil was looking at the phone now. “Got an admirer or something?”

Tino groaned as he checked his lock screen.  _ 5 new messages from Äiti.  _ “My mom sends one message for every sentence.”

“That sounds so fucking annoying,” muttered Emil with a stoic face and a slight intrigue to his tome. “You ever told her to stop?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t bother my little sister, so she’ll be all, ‘Aw, Äiti, don’t listen to Tino, just text how you like and be yourself!’ and it’s back to square one.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke. 

“Äi - what?”

“Oh, Äiti, it’s Finnish for mother,” Tino explained. “Sorry, I use it without thinking.” 

“You’re fine, I kinda guessed.” Emil was staring at the seat in front of him, lines furrowing his brow. “You close to your mom?” 

“I guess. We used to be closer, before…”

“Before you came out?”

“Yeah.” Tino held his breath. “She tries, and she’s made a lot of progress.”

“Was your sister weird about it?”

“No, Tuuli’s known longer than I have. According to her.” He couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto his face. “She’s too sharp for her own good. And too nosy.” He looked at Emil. “Is it weird to say your sibling is your best friend?”

“No?” Emil scoffed. “Lukas is my best friend.” His expression softened. “Lukas has been there for me longer than anyone else.”

Tino hummed. “I can relate. Tuuli’s been there for me for forever, even though I’m the older sibling…” 

“Were your parents really involved with your lives growing up?” Emil was now staring at Tino, somewhat intently. It was like he'd switched from distant to intense in a moment; it caught Tino off guard.

“Uh, why?” 

“I’m trying to establish some kind of friend connection by asking you about your life.” Emil tilted his head. “You could be asking me questions in return if you wanted.”

Tino blinked. “Oh.” He felt slightly uncomfortable by the striking callousness of the conversation.  _ Well, that was blunt. _ “Um, yeah, they were. Were yours?”

“My mom was when I was little. But she got sick and died when I was twelve.”

Now Tino felt even  _ more _ uncomfortable. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

_ Maybe I should get a big “WARNING! AWKWARD AS HELL" tattooed on my forehead. _

He tried to quickly think of something to respond with, chewing his bottom lip so hard he slightly split the skin, before settling on the only thing that came to mind; the one thing he had a hard time talking about. The one thing that was relevant to the conversation.

“Well, you aren’t the only person in the Dead Parent Club.” He turned to look at the window. “My dad died two months ago.”

_ That wasn’t too difficult to say out loud. _

“Damn, dude, that sucks,” Emil responded in a flat tone. “Well, at least we have different dead parents so we can compare the differences.”

Tino was only a little surprised at the callous response he’d gotten this time. Based on his prior experiences, he was expecting some kind of apology and tone shift - like how he had reacted to learning about Emil’s mom.

It was this response that made Tino decide he liked Emil.

“Oh, you doing anything tonight?” Emil looked down at the bags at his feet. “If not, we’ll probably feed you if you come by and help clean the bar.” 

Normally, Tino would have said no. He just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep the moment he got home and resume his plan to hide from the world for the next indeterminate amount of time.

But he knew this would only make things better with the Bondeviks. Lukas be damned, he was still his landlord, no matter what he said. And Emil would be there; he’d enjoyed talking to him on the train, even if their conversation was weird.

“What kind of food?”

* * *

Tino tried to open  _ Flykten Nördmannen _ ’s door but found it locked. So he just opted to knock.

There was no answer. Tino assumed it was because of the “CLOSED” sign on the door; Lukas was probably ignoring it. If he was in there like Emil said he was.

He whipped out his phone and sent Lukas a text.

_ I’m at the front door of the bar - Emil said I could help with cleaning? _

A minute later, the door slowly opened.

Lukas was looking at him like he was insane. “Why didn’t you come through the back?”

“The back?” Tino thought of the door in the foyer. “You mean the door with the big ‘NO ENTRY’ sign?” 

Lukas’s face changed to an expression of realization. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, we put that there when we got the apartment finished for you. I meant to take it down. You can go through there.”

“You mean it’s not a one-way only door?”

“What? Who told you it was?”

“Emil did.” Emil was suddenly behind Lukas, who quickly turned his head to stare his younger brother down. “I told him we’d feed him if he helped clean.”

“Emil,” Lukas began, “he may be our neighbor, but we don’t have to invite him to everything. He’s got a life outside of us, I doubt he’d be interested in cleaning a bar -”

“Actually,” Tino interrupted, “I kind of don’t have much of a life right now, so cleaning a bar sounds better than nothing.”

Lukas whipped his head back to Tino. “Are you sure?” Emil was smirking behind him.

“Yeah, it’s fine!” 

Lukas hesitated for a moment, before stepping back and opening the door fully. “All right.”

Tino stepped inside and Lukas closed the door behind him. 

As he did, Mads’s head popped up from underneath the bar. “Why’s the door opening - ?” He cut himself off when he saw Tino. “Ti!” He dropped something on the floor with a loud  _ clang!  _ and made a beeline for him, enveloping him in a hug. “What’re you doin’ here?!” 

Tino wasn’t prepared for a hug (and Mads was a strong hugger), so it took him a second to answer. “Um, cleaning the bar?” 

“Whaaat?!” Mads stepped back with a grin. “That’s awesome! Four people is better than three!” He grabbed Tino’s hand and pulled him towards the back. “I’ll show you how our setup works!”

“Mads, show him where the door to the apartments are first,” Lukas called after them. He and Emil watched the pair disappear into the back room.

“Man, Mads really wants to befriend him, huh?” 

“I  _ was _ trying to let him take it at his own pace, you know.”

“You should have seen him on the metro. Super mopey and sad, and his mom wouldn’t leave him alone. But he smiled when I sat next to him.” Emil shrugged. “I think I did something good.” 

There was a loud crash in the back, a yelp from Tino, and bellowing laughter from Mads.

“Maybe.”

* * *

It turns out that cleaning a bar was more work than Tino had anticipated, even though he didn’t mind; his first weekend in Stockholm had been intense, and a simple distracting activity was welcoming to his tired mind. 

He had started by assisting the Bondeviks in gently removing every single bottle on the back wall, then giving the shelves that held the bottles a good scrubbing. Lukas and Mads took inventory of the alcohol on display, while Tino and Emil took inventory of supplies like napkins and straws.

Cleaning the shelves had been more tiresome than anyone had anticipated, so Mads took a few minutes to order everyone food from a nearby German bar. After orders had been taken, he headed out to pick them up. “Take a fiver and relax, delivery fees are dumb anyway when I can just walk!” had been his response when Lukas suggested delivery.

“Dummy doesn’t realize I suggested it because I wanted to get this done faster,” muttered Lukas as the door closed behind Mads. He, Tino, and Emil were sitting at one of the bar’s empty tables, drinking cheap beer.

“Maybe he wanted to get some fresh air as well?” Tino suggested.

“Nah, he’s just stingy,” said Emil. “I call him Mr. Krabs sometimes to piss him off.”

“What, like the Spongebob Squarepants character?” Tino tried (and failed) to stifle a laugh.

“They’re the exact same, minus the whole whale for a daughter part.” Emil stopped himself. “Oh, wait. That’s Lukas.”

Tino was now full out laughing as Lukas lightly punched Emil in the arm. “Shut up. Then who would you be?”

“Squidward, duh.” 

Tino raised his hand. “Can I be Spongebob, then?” 

All three of them were still laughing when Mads opened the door, carryout in his arms. “What are you guys laughing at without me?”

“How you’re middle-aged and run a fast food restaurant,” Emil snickered.

“Hey! How many times do I have to tell you, I am  _ not _ Mr. Krabs!!”

The group ate with minimal conversation, preferring to chat while getting the bar cleaned. Dinner passed without incident and the group went back to work. Lukas began to mop the floor and Emil was in the back, leaving Mads and Tino to reorganize the bar shelf. Any bottle that was at what Mads called eighty percent full (Tino had to make an educated guess on each bottle) would go back on the shelf as is; anything else would either need to be replaced with a new bottle or filled with leftovers beneath the shelves. “We’ve learned that keeping the bottles full means it looks like we’re always stocked, which keeps people interested and coming back,” Mads had explained.

The two were able to easily talk since they were working on one section at a time; the bar was organized by alcohol type, and Mads wanted to make sure each section looked perfect before moving on to the next one. Tino frequently saw him taking glances at Lukas at the other end of the bar, smiling each time. 

While Mads was absentmindedly filling a Russian vodka bottle, Tino said, “Hey, Mads. How old were you when you met Lukas?” 

Mads sat the bottle down and scrunched his face in a way that Tino could only guess to be his “thinking” face. “Hmm...probably four?”

“Wow!” Tino felt his grip lighten on the bottle he was holding, so he quickly sat it down. “Four? Really?”

“Yeah!” 

“Aren’t you...aren’t you from different countries?”

Mads grinned. “That’s right! I grew up in a tiny town on the coast of Denmark that had a lot of summer homes. Lukas’s dad owned one of the homes and left it to his mom when he died, so they were in town once a year, startin' around when I was four.”

He placed the vodka bottle on the shelf. “Emil was born when they were in town. They had to drive in a...what are they called? Midwife?” He shrugged. “I remember Lukas and I had to sit outside the house so we couldn’t hear, he was so nervous, he clutched my hand until it was totally numb. I think he almost passed out!” 

He leaned against the bar, eyes cast in no particular direction, lost in thought. “I remember when we saw Emil for the first time. He was so tiny and had, like, no hair at all!” He chuckled. “Then Lukas got to hold him, and he was just staring at Emil with this tiny smile, and all his stress was gone, and he was vibrating slightly because he was so excited but he was trying not to because Emil was asleep which made him tremble even more. You could see how much he loved him already.”

Tino was enthralled. He started working on the bottles again, but slower, taking his time, mind focused on the conversation. “Do you remember when you first met?”

“Kind of, not really the first actual meeting, but the first day we ever hung out, I tripped in the sand and it made him laugh. So every time we were at the beach after that, I’d trip in the sand to hear his laughter again.” Mads took a slow, contemplating breath. “Then, as soon as he knew what idiot meant, he’d call me idiot on top of the laughter, so I did it twice as often.”

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!” Tino could picture a tiny Mads in his mind’s eye, tripping over and over in the sand, surrounded by soft chuckles from a tiny Lukas.

“Yeah, we were both cute kids, but Emil was cuter than both of us combined!” They both laughed at that one.

“How old was Emil when he started living with you guys?”

“Twelve. Right after their mom died.” His tone softened, and he cast his gaze in a different direction. “She had some kind of cancer. I honestly don’t remember, but she just declined really quickly and was just gone. We weren’t there. Emil’s dad asked him if he wanted to live with him or us, and he chose us.” He smiled. “His dad was pissed at first, but he got over it! He even  _ calls _ sometimes. Not the worst guy in the world.”

“Where were you guys when she...when she passed away?” Tino was quieter now, asking with hesitation, not looking at Mads but at the bottle in his hands.

Mads answered without a second thought. “In a tiny studio apartment in Oslo. She’d decided to spend her last days at the family beach home, and by that point...I couldn’t go back there.” A breath hitched in his throat. “I - couldn’t risk seeing my mom again.”

Tino knew that tone too well. He sat the bottle down before he gripped it too hard and broke it. He wasn’t even aware of how strongly he’d held it until it was out of his hands.

Mads had apparently noticed, as he was looking at Tino when their eyes met.

The mood had changed completely.

Tino’s mouth twitched.

“Homophobic parent?”

The light in Mads’s eyes changed, very slightly.

“Yes.”

They stared at one another in silence; when Lukas looked up from mopping to glance at them, he could swear they were conversing with nothing but their eyes.

It was in that moment that the pair understood each other on a completely different level.

Tino broke the silence. “Just your mom?” 

“Yeah, dad wasn’t around. I didn’t even know he existed until I got a letter saying he’d left me money in his will.” He shrugged. “Either way, I had Lukas, and that was kind of all I needed. Then I got Emil in the deal, which was even better!” 

“Are you talking about me?” Emil’s voice rang out from the back room, slicing the tension.

“Yes!” shouted Mads.

“Stop.”

“No!”

“Both of you get back to work!” yelled Lukas from the entrance to the bar. Tino and Mads dissolved into giggles as they made sure to restock the bottles while they talked.

“Anyway, the money my dad left me helped us get this place opened, so I’m definitely grateful, even if I never met the guy.” Mads shot Tino a sideways glance. “Your...mom?”

“Ah -” Tino caught himself, bit his scabbed-over lip. “Yes? Well...both parents. But my dad’s since passed away, and my mom has made a lot of progress compared to when she first knew.” He shook his head, as if trying to shake away the memories. “She’s not hateful, just older and...kind of ignorant, a little.”

“Baby sister?”

“Claims she knew years before I did, and accepted it from day one.” Tino smiled. “She’s great.”

“Man!” Mads threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “I wish I had siblings! You guys are all so precious with each other!” As he did so, gin flew in the air from the cup he was holding and splashed all over him and Tino.

“Mads! Why are you showering in gin?!” Lukas’s mop was brandished in his hands. “That shit is expensive!” He swung the mop at Mads, trying his best to avoid Tino (who’d seen Lukas coming and ducked appropriately). The mop hit the side of Mads’s face with a sickening  _ thwap!  _ sound.

“Ewwwww! Lukas, what the  _ hell _ !” Mads shuddered, now soaked with mop water.

Emil’s head poked through the door. “Did I miss Mads getting hit?”

Tino couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

Tino had gotten home from bar cleaning late into the night; he set his alarm and immediately flopped into his bed, saving his shower for the next morning. His exhaustion ended up being a benefit, as he slept well through the night and recouped any lost sleep from the night before. He was able to get to work earlier, and his second day passed with about as much fanfare as the first. 

So, none at all.

This afternoon, he didn’t see anyone he knew on his commute home, which was a relief; he was emotionally spent and wanted to spend some time alone. He was quiet as he reached his apartment, almost tiptoeing inside in case a Bondevik was around and wanted to talk. 

He ate dinner in total silence.

That evening, he was on his computer, catching up on a few forums he’d neglected during his move and making sure he didn’t need to do anything else for the move itself.

He opened Discord and saw he had one message - from Eduard.

_ You left me on read. You absolute asshole. _

Tino laughed and sent a response.

_ You try handling an international move while also meeting your cousin’s every desire. _

Eventually, they hopped on voice chat, not playing any games together but just talking, mostly Eduard asking Tino about his job while talking about his current work in graduate school.

Eventually, the topic turned where Tino thought it would. “So, has...has she -”

“No, she hasn’t.” Tino didn’t let him finish. “And I kind of hope it stays that way. I don't remember if I told you or not, but she got kind of, uh, intense when I told her.”

“How bad did it get?”

“You know how her family was getting really...religious over the last few years. The last thing she said to me was that she was sent to save my soul because I would burn in hell.”

Silence on the other line. 

It took Eduard so long to respond, Tino thought he’d lost Internet connection.

“It was that bad?”

“...Yeah.” 

“Holy shit,” Eduard breathed. "All I can think of is you dodging an extra large Bullet Bill charging towards you."

Tino laughed. "That's a good way to describe how I felt!"

“I’m...I’m impressed by you, dude.”

“What?” Tino knew Eduard couldn’t see him, but he made a face anyway. “The hell are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t make it through all that shit, especially on top of your dad and everything. No way. But you did and it sounds like you're doing well.”

Now it was Tino’s turn to respond with silence.

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know.”

“You think?” 

“I  _ know _ , ass.” Tino could hear the smile on Eduard’s face. “Seriously. Fuck her, I hope you find a hot man so you can rub it in her face.”

Tino burst into laughter, caught off guard by the unusual brashness of his cousin; he was always _so_ polite when it came to women! “Oh my gosh, Ed! You can be enthusiastic but not  _ that _ much!”

They both laughed.

“You mentioned your friends next door, are any of them single?”

“The only single one is eight years younger than me, so I’m going to say a hard no.” Ed laughed and started saying something about cradle robbing, so Tino cut him off. “No. Don't even start. There is one guy, though.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s kind of...intimidating? And doesn’t talk much…” Tino trailed off. Even with someone as close as Eduard, this was still hard to talk about.

“Well, do you know if he’s straight or not?” 

“As far as I’m aware, he’s not.”

“Dude!” Tino could vaguely hear the sound of Eduard jumping out of his computer chair. “That’s great news! You’ve gone over the biggest hurdle! Now you know it’s okay to ask him out!”

Tino coughed. “Ed, may I remind you that I haven’t asked a single human out since I was thirteen?”

“That just means you won’t have to worry about your braces!” 

Tino hung up the call.

Eduard immediately called back. “ _ Rude _ .”

Tino chose to ignore him. “Besides, even if I  _ did _ , he seems to be really close with the Bondeviks, who seem to want me in the friend group - at least for now.” 

“Tino -”

“And if it got awkward because of that, that would terminate any kind of friendship even quicker.”

Eduard sighed. “I guess you do have a point. Maybe you could talk to one of the Bondeviks about it? Someone who wouldn’t tell him?” 

“I -” Tino stopped himself, making sure he thought before he spoke. “It’s not the worst idea?” He tapped a finger on his desk. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“It’s a good idea.”

“It’s an _ idea _ .”

“Speaking of ideas…” Tino internally groaned at this, prepared for the worst. “You remember Toris, yeah?”

“How can I not?” Toris, Eduard’s roommate in university, had been on many a drunken bender with the pair. 

“Well, it turns out he moved to Stockholm, too.”

“Whoa! Really?”

“Yep! Some teaching job. Feliks moved in with him.”

“That’s the one with the long blond hair, right?”  _ Someone I’ve seen only in photos, I haven’t been back in a while. _

“Yep. I have no clue what they do for work, though...I should ask him about that.” Tino could then hear Eduard typing rapidly on his keyboard.  Probably writing a note to bring it up.

“Anyway! I figure that’s double the reason for me to come visit sooner rather than later.” 

Tino’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that would be awesome! I could use a night out with you guys again.”

“I’ll figure out a date and try to let you know at least...a week ahead of time?”

They agreed on a plan and ended the call.

Tino was excited. He liked Toris, and he missed Eduard; he hadn't been able to come to the funeral because of school. 

_ It's been, what, a year since we've seen each other in person now?  _

As he fell asleep that evening, he found his mind wandering to how Eduard would feel about the Bondeviks. And Berwald.

_Especially_ Berwald.


	8. Friday Night Get-Togethers, Part 1

The rest of the week went by in what felt like no time at all. Tino had effortlessly fallen into his role at his new job and was already getting compliments from his manager. Coworkers engaged in small talk with him on occasion. By Thursday, he didn’t need to have directions to the office up on his phone. 

On Friday, during his lunch hour, he received a text from Mads.

_ Comin by tonight? _

Tino shot him an affirmative. He hadn’t seen the Bondeviks since he helped clean the bar on Monday night, so he was eager to see them again.

And there was a chance Berwald may be there.

That certainly didn’t hurt.

After Eduard had mentioned Toris’s residence in Stockholm, Tino had considered reaching out to him as well, ahead of a visit from Eduard; but he wasn’t close with the man, and had really only interacted with him because of his cousin. So he pocketed that idea for a future weekend.

Friday afternoon crawled to a near standstill, because  _ of course it does when I make plans.  _ He found himself looking at the clock more often than normal, and had to force himself to stop when he noticed an increase in his heart rate.

_ Why am I feeling nervous about this again?  _

He was supposed to be past the nerves at this point. Sure, he’d had anxiety over making friends in the past, in university and at work; but after a time that initial anxiety would wear away, receiving an extra nudge from a drink or two. It didn’t…

It didn’t last this long.

_ Maybe because of how last time ended. _

Running upstairs in a drunken blind panic and smashing your head against the floor.

_ Yeah, that’s most likely it. _

Tino touched his forehead. The bruise was almost gone now. He’d worn makeup to cover it every day at work, but at the rate his skin was healing, he wouldn’t need it on Monday. He was glad; one less thing to worry about.

He still hadn’t attempted Eduard’s idea of confiding in one of the three Bondeviks about his “problem” with Berwald. He wasn’t sure which one to confide  _ in.  _ Mads was positive and had shared experiences, but was also kind of loud - Tino wasn’t sure how strong his filter was. And Emil...well, there was a chance Emil would  _ deliberately _ tell Berwald; as much as Tino liked the kid, his way of communicating was...interesting.

So that left Lukas.

_ Lukas seems like the one to go to. He was so nice last week. _ He sighed.  _ But also, it seems like I’d just be offloading my problems onto him at that point, and I definitely don’t want to do that. _

He resigned himself to worry about it later, and went back to work.

He entertained the thought again on his commute home, but his hesitation kicked in and he decided to see how the evening would play out.

_ Who knows, maybe it was just a momentary thing; we’ve only had, what, one conversation? _

Even so, that didn’t explain the feeling of twisting knots in his stomach.

He felt weird showing up as they opened, so he elected to wait a bit and play a game to pass the time, settling on the cartridge already in his console - the latest Mario platformer. 

He selected a later level and opened his phone’s timer app, working on his personal speedrun time. His first few runs ended in failure, but he eventually found his rhythm, looking like he was going to shave a few seconds off of his personal record -

and then, a knock at the door.

Tino looked at the clock. The bar had opened twenty minutes ago. 

He hopped up from the couch, turning the television off as he went, and opened the door. 

It was Emil. “You hadn’t shown up yet.” 

“Oh. Uh, well, I wasn’t aware of any specific meetup time…”

Emil opened his mouth, then closed it, looking like he was thinking. “Well, there isn’t, but you’ve been so on time before I guess we just assumed you’d keep doing it.”

Tino held his breath.  _ Punctuality really is a double-edged sword. _

Emil shrugged. “Whatever. You coming?”

Tino nodded, closing the door behind him and following Emil down the stairs. They went through the ground floor door, the former sign now just a memory for them both. 

The door led through a small hall to the bar’s back area. There were two large basin sinks for washing dishes, with plenty of shelf space on either side for dishes to dry. Shelves against the wall furthest from the entrance were stocked with clean glasses, some still in packaging. A large bin near the sink had a large, crudely written sign taped to the side that said “BROKEN GLASS”.

The back countertop was mostly bare; the cabinets beneath the back countertop were stocked with a variety of prepackaged foods, which the bar kept on hand to sell if someone needed something to eat quickly. A small coffee pot was the main sight on the counter, with a variety of random mugs stacked beside it. Coffee to get through the shift, Tino supposed. 

They walked through the back room to the bar area, winding around the bar exit so they were in the main area.

Berwald was already there. 

Tino’s eyes immediately went to him.

Their eyes met.

Berwald nodded in greeting.

Tino felt his heart skip a beat as he nodded back. 

Someone else may have attributed such a palpitation as a result of being lovestruck, but Tino attributed it to his nervous anxiety.

Nervous anxiety that he promptly forgot about when he saw two shot glasses sitting on the bar, full of liquor, with a confident-looking Mads standing over them.

“Oi, Ti! Last week Lukas got to let loose so this week it’s my turn,” he gestured to the shot glasses, “so I bet I can drink  _ you _ under the table!”

Tino stopped before he reached a stool, his mouth twitching. 

_ I told myself I wouldn’t do this again after university. _

He wasn’t the biggest partier in school, not hitting the bars every single weekend like some of his peers, but when he did accept an invitation to a party or head out drinking, he could outdrink anyone who challenged him. There were several occasions where bar owners would refuse to serve him after he’d downed so much. 

These were also the only times he got sick on alcohol - he’d remember his grandfather’s bragging about the family line having “the alcohol tolerance of the gods”. He remembered one particularly painful hangover after being challenged by a group of German university students in Tallinn. Eduard had almost taken him to the doctor, he’d thrown up so much.

_ It’s been a long time, though… _

He realized he hadn’t seen Mads really drunk yet, and wondered what his tolerance was like. He was looking at Tino like he would devour him whole. It came off as cocky.

_ One time won’t hurt, right? _

Tino made a dramatic show of pulling out his phone. “Well, gosh, Mads, let me see if I have enough money…” He pretended to pull up his bank balance.

Everyone was looking at him funny.

“What for?” asked Mads.

“To make sure I have enough money to drink all the vodka in the bar,” answered Tino with a smug grin.

Mads’s face changed after a moment to a smirk. “Oh, so you’re that good, huh?”

“I’m not just good.” Tino sat on a stool in front of him. “I’m  _ undefeated _ .” He lifted his eyes to meet Mads’s. “I’ve never lost a drinking challenge. And I’ve been challenged quite a lot.” His chest was slightly puffed in bravado.

He could see Berwald and Lukas raise their eyebrows out of the corner of his eye.

“That so?!” Mads belted out a laugh. “Are you sure? You’re so tiny, surely you can’t hold  _ that _ much liquor!”

Tino’s eyebrow twitched.

At this moment, his prior anxiety and worries about Berwald were all but forgotten. 

“Oh. Oh, you are  _ so _ on.”

They both quickly downed the shots in front of them, some random vodka that was quickly forgotten. Mads had the bottle of vodka at the ready, and he quickly refilled the shot glasses; the pair immediately downed their second shots.

“Don’t rush into it. You’ll both get sick,” cut in Lukas from Tino’s right. He placed a hand over the empty shot glasses. “I’ll take over the pouring, how about that?”

Mads pouted, but Tino nodded. “It’s only fair.”

Everyone sat in the same spots they had the week prior. Lukas was the last to arrive, bringing two brown mixed drinks; Tino thought it looked similar to whatever Mads had served him last time.

“Don’t shotgun these, please,” said Lukas as he sat the glasses down. 

“You got it, boss!” Mads took a swig, then shuddered. He grabbed two straws, tossed one to Tino, and dropped it into the glass, stirring.

Tino did the same. “What is this called, anyway?”

“A Long Island iced tea. It’s an American drink.”

“Hm.” He took a sip; it tasted intensely of alcohol, but also slightly sweet. “I really like this.”

“They’ll screw ya over like it’s nothing! It’s like, ninety percent alcohol!” Mads took another drink and leaned back in his chair. “Man, I love Fridays!”

Lukas rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. “So, Tino, how was your first week of work?”

“Fine. Very easy, and kind of boring, which is what I was looking for.” He thought for a second. “The most exciting thing that happened to me this week was Monday evening here.”

Berwald looked at Lukas questioningly. 

“He helped with deep cleaning the bar on Monday,” Lukas explained.

“An’ he did a kickass job, too!” Mads had already downed his drink and had begun to swing his feet up onto the bar. As he did so, Lukas whacked him in the back of the head; he quickly put his feet on the floor in response.

“They do this cutesy shit  _ all _ the time,” murmured Emil, sipping his wine at a slow pace. “Sickening.”

Tino could only chuckle in response as he tried to match Mads’s drinking pace, downing his iced tea.

Lukas’s eyes went to their glasses. “Man, you guys already drank those? Well, no more alcohol till you’ve had water, either of you.” He grabbed their glasses and took them away before they could respond.

“So, Berwald.” Mads leaned both of his elbows on the counter. “If we made this into a bet with a little weight on it -” he winked - “who would you put your money on? Me or Ti?”

“Tino.” 

The abruptness and clarity of his answer startled everyone who heard.

“Really?! You wouldn’t bet on me, yer old best pal?” Mads whined as he rocked his barstool back and forth, earning him another gentle slap on the back of the head from Lukas, who had since returned with water.

“Have you seen him get drunk before?” asked Emil, arching an eyebrow and looking at Berwald questioningly.

“Well, no, but he’s a Finn.” Berwald adjusted his glasses. “M’ mum used to tell stories about how Finns gain strength from drinkin’...”

Tino belted out a laugh. “Your mom sounds like my grandfather!”

Berwald’s lips twitched into a small smile. 

Their eyes met again.

Tino felt warm. 

The two stared at each other for what was just a few seconds, but to Tino it felt like an eternity that ended too soon. The buzz was starting to hit, so all he could focus on was the attractive guy in front of him who he wanted to keep staring at uninterrupted.

“Whoa,” breathed out Mads from out of Tino’s view. “You got him to smile.” 

Berwald’s face changed back into its neutral expression, and TIno whipped his head around. “Huh?”

Mads, Lukas, and Emil were all staring at him intensely. He could feel a blush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks. “Um?”

“You got Waldy to smile,” said Mads, leaning harder, inching towards Tino’s face. “He hardly ever smiles. None of us can get him to do it. And you did it just with a laugh.” He leaned in even more, noses almost touching. “Do you practice black magic or somethin’?"

Berwald leaned over, grabbed the back of Mads’s collar, and yanked him back. “Don’t crowd people like that, ya drunk.”

“I wasn’t!”

Tino’s eyes moved back to Berwald.  _ Surely Mads can’t be serious. _

He decided in his alcohol-laced haze to disregard the comment for the time being.

While Mads was being chastised, it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Berwald in a week, and he’d been at an interview the last day they’d seen one another. “Oh, Berwald, how did your interview end up?”

This caught everyone’s attention, and they all looked at him, the bar falling into silence.

He only held Tino’s gaze with his own. “Well, I got the job. Start week after next.”

“Woooo!” Mads raised his glass of water in the air. “Hell yeah, Berwald!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!” Tino couldn’t help but clap.

Lukas just smiled and said, “I told you it’d go well.”

Mads was already out of his stool, going for a set of shot glasses. “Celebration shots!” he sang out as he brought them back to the group. “Well, pick your poison, Mr. Architect!”

“Rum.”

Mads grabbed a bottle of a colorless rum, but Lukas took it out of his hands. “Sit.” He pushed Mads down onto his stool, then poured the rum into the glasses, muttering under his breath.

Tino cleared his throat and raised his glass. “To Mister Oxenstierna, the architect!”

He wasn’t looking at Berwald, but he could hear him let out a slight chuckle as the others shouted in agreement. It was deep, soft, and slightly raspy around the edges, and it made Tino shiver.

He quickly downed the shot and hoped it would kick in sooner rather than later.

“Ti, we’re still even!” Mads was now starting to slur his words. “Think ya can still beat me?”

Tino looked at Lukas and nodded; Lukas sighed and got up to get them their next round.

“You said you were undefeated, yeah?” Emil’s teeth were slightly stained pink from his wine. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Uh, well, it  _ did _ , when I was in university.” Tino raised a finger to his lips in thought. “My cousin and I went bar hopping a lot. We liked to take drinking bets because we always won. We got kicked out of a few places for it, too.” 

“That sounds like I’m cutting this drinking contest off before it goes too far,” chimed in Lukas from further down the bar. “Or you’ll drink us out of business.”

Tino chuckled. “Maybe.”

Lukas brought back two more iced teas and sat them down. “This is the limit for you both, so say I. Berwald, is the new office far?”

He shook his head. “Jus’ down the blue line, to the central of the city.”

Tino gripped his drink. “Oh, that’s how I get to work.”

“You’re in the central city, too, Tino?” Lukas looked at him. 

“He takes the blue metro line,” chimed in Emil. When Lukas shot him a look, he responded, “What? How do you think I invited him Monday? I saw him on the ride home from the store.”

Berwald looked at Tino. “Hm. Maybe we’ll see each other sometime.”

“Oh, uh, yeah!” Tino was fully inebriated and still slightly flushed, so his mind was already going places before he could respond. “Maybe.” He broke their eye contact and saw Lukas staring at him.

_ Stop staring at me! I see that scheming look! _

But, of course, Lukas couldn’t hear his thoughts.

_ Change the subject. Distract. _

“So, Berwald, how did you meet the Bondeviks?” 

He was curious.

“Ohh, I can answer that!” belted out Mads, ignorant of the pointed looks he was receiving from Lukas and Berwald. “Yanno how I told ya I grew up where there were a buncha holiday homes? His family had one too!” He yelped as he received an elbow to the ribs from Lukas.

Berwald cleared his throat. “We spent mos’ winters there. Avoided the cold, an’ all.” He turned to Lukas. “How old were we when we met?”

Lukas’s eyes drifted to the ceiling in thought. “Huh. I think you and I were six?”

Mads hiccupped in seeming approval.

Berwald nodded and continued. “Spent winters with my grandparents before that.”

“You were real scary at first!” Mads pointed at Berwald, drink still in hand. “You had that harsh stare ya got now, and ya didn’t say anything fer three whole days once!”

While Berwald was glaring needles at Mads, who responded with an innocuous look, Lukas continued explaining. “We all saw each other every winter, until the winter Emil was born.”

“Did your family stop going because of Emil?” Tino thought he was following.

But the trio’s faces grew somber at his question.

_ I’m way off mark, aren’t I?  _

Mads took a large swig of his drink. “Well, a few weeks after Emil was born, my ma found out about me.”

Tino was deep in his drunken haze, but no amount of alcohol could clear his understanding now. “I see.” 

Since no one continued or responded to him, he took a second to try and think of a timeline of the events he’d been informed on. 

_ Mads got kicked out when Emil was born. Emil is eighteen, Mads is thirty-one, so Mads was...thirteen? when he got kicked out. When Emil’s mom died, Emil was twelve, so Mads would be nineteen, and he lived in Oslo… _

“Where were you between Denmark and Oslo?” he asked.

“That’s the fun part,” said Mads with a wink. “I went home with this big lug!” He lightly punched Berwald in the arm, who rolled his eyes and finished his bottle of beer. 

Lukas reached into a fridge behind him and passed Berwald another bottle without speaking.

“Oh! So you lived in Sweden during that time?” Tino leaned on the bar.

“Yep! It’s so freaking  _ cold _ there! But Mr. an’ Mrs. O treated me like their own kid.” His voice softened. “It was really nice.”

“Sounds like it.” Tino finished the last of his drink, not having any issue with Lukas cutting him off for the evening; he was _drunk_ , but not drunk enough to get sick. His mind had drifted to imagining a young Mads, abruptly moving up and out of his childhood home, into a new country with not a lot of control over his own life’s direction.

It made him wonder how different his own life would have gone if he had realized about himself sooner. 

Or if he hadn't met her.

Everyone was staring at him.

Had someone spoken to him?

“Uh…” He looked from face to face. “Did I space out?”

“Yeah, you totally did,” said Emil. “Staring at the ceiling, drooling a little, totally spaced.”

“Ah - !” Tino immediately wiped at his mouth, hoping no one would draw any more attention to anything he’d done. “D - did someone ask me something?”

“Yeah!” Mads hiccupped. “I asked if you were ok if I asked ya about...well, how it went for you?” He slurred his words, looking away and his face pink with blush ( _ or embarrassment? pity? _ ). “But I was worried I fucked up by askin’ ya…”

“Ohhhh.”  _ Makes sense why that was so intense.  _ “You didn’t, like, put me in a bad place or anything! I was just thinking about what you told me, a little too hard, I guess.” He noticed he was still holding his empty glass and sat it down. “Yeah, I can talk about it.”

He glanced at Lukas, who shot him a look of encouragement.

Emil’s face kept its blank expression.

Mads was leaning towards him, holding his breath, slightly swaying from the alcohol.

Berwald’s expression was stern but patient.

He decided to fixate his gaze on his glass, in the end.

“They found out four months ago, when I told them I had gotten divorced.” He heard someone inhale sharply, but his senses were too dulled to figure out who. “And...some time after, my dad passed away.” 

He felt like gravity had increased tenfold as he stared, now at the laminate of the bar in front of him.

“My extended family...well, they don’t even  _ know. _ They just know I got divorced and won’t stop asking me questions.”

He looked at Mads.

“I was thinking of you a minute ago, and how different it must have been for us. I couldn’t imagine going through what I did as a teenager.” He felt his eyes strain and knew tears were on their way. “I thought I was having it rough, but hearing about you guys and how you’ve persevered…”

He felt a jolt of pain from one of his fingers. He looked down and realized he’d unconsciously picked the skin around his nails until it was bleeding. He balled both hands into fists, hoping no one noticed.

Then he felt hands tugging on his face.

“Wh -”

He was slightly pulled over the bar as Mads stood and planted a kiss on his cheek. His body went rigid, but didn’t pull away; he _did_ grab Mads’s hands and pull them off of his face.

Mads was laughing. “Tino!  _ My guy!” _

Tino didn’t panic, a benefit of being drunk. He simply relaxed, letting himself fall back to his side of the bar, and said to Mads, “Can I help you?”

He laughed harder, bending at the waist, placing his hands on the bar, and turning to Lukas. “Can we adopt him?”

“What?!” Tino slapped his hands on the bar. “You can’t adopt me! I’m an adult with a parent!”

“We can do it metaphorically then!”

“What does that even mean?! And I’m only five years younger than you!”

“At least your last name would be easier to pronounce!”

“If I wanted an easier to pronounce last name I’d rather have Berwald’s!” He pointed to Berwald but didn’t break eye contact with Mads. “His last name is  _ cooler! _ ”

This earned a dramatic gasp from Mads. “How  _ dare _ you!” He whirled back to face Lukas. “I take back what I said earlier. I don’t want to adopt him anymore.”

“He’s not wrong. Oxenstierna is a cool last name.” Emil took a sip of his wine, looking pointedly at Mads.

“Youuuuu traitor!” 

Mads began pointing and exaggeratingly shouting at Emil, but he ignored the noise and turned to Tino. “Did you see Berwald’s face when you said that? He looked like a beet.”

Tino had not. He looked over.

Berwald’s back was to him, and he was slightly hunched over, shoulders rigid. 

Tino tapped him on the shoulder. “Why’re you turned around, Ber?”

Berwald turned back to face him; he was, as Emil had said, red as a beet. “Ber?” His voice came out cracked.

“What did you just call him?” asked Lukas.

“I called him Ber! It’s a cute nickname, right?” 

Berwald coughed. 

Emil was visibly trying not to laugh.

Mads was howling with laughter. “Ber?  _ Cute?! _ Those are the  _ last _ two words I’d put together!” He fell onto the floor, clutching his sides.

Berwald stood, eyes focused on the door. “Right. Well. Best be goin’.”

“Wha?” Tino watched Berwald step towards the door for a second before reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. “W - wait! I’m sorry!”

He received a shrug, which knocked his hand down.

He felt something painful brewing in his gut.

_ This is not what I wanted to happen. _

He turned back to Mads, who was still laughing. The glass in front of him had a small amount of liquid in it, presumably melted ice from his last drink.

The reaction occurred without thinking. He reached out, grabbed the glass, leaned over the bar, and flung the water right onto Mads’s face.

“Oi!” Mads’s hands flew to his face. “What the - !”

Lukas and Emil burst into laughter.

Tino turned back around, but the front door of the bar was ajar, swinging shut.

He’d already left.

Tino forgot about the Bondeviks at that point and bolted to the entrance, practically running into the heavy wooden door as he exited.

Berwald was standing adjacent to the door; as Tino exited the bar, he was putting his arm into his coat sleeve. He turned to face the shorter man, who was wobbling from his recent door collision. 

“What’re ya doin’?”

“I, uh -” he hiccupped - “I didn’t get to give you a good apology. I wanted to before you left.”

“Apologize for what?”

“I -” 

He stopped and caught his breath.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in any way by referring to you in an embarrassing manner.” He tilted his head down. “I’ll never call you Ber again, if that’s what you would prefer.” He glanced up at the other man through his eyelashes. “I just don’t want to make things uncomfortable between us, if it does…”

Berwald gave him that same strange, unreadable expression he’d had on his face the night they properly met. He didn’t say anything for a minute; he seemed to be thinking a lot on what to say. 

Tino didn’t move.

Eventually, he said, “Ya don’t have to apologize.” He shifted his weight onto his other foot and gave Tino a small, slightly crooked smile. “And ya can call me that. If ya want.” 

A grin quickly spread across Tino’s face as he felt his heart leap into his throat. “Really?”

Berwald nodded. “Ya know, it’s late, and yer pretty drunk. Ya may want ta head home.”

Tino hummed in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

“Want me ta walk ya back?”

Tino was thankful it was dark outside so Berwald couldn’t see his reaction. “Uh, s - sure.” He stepped over to the Swede and clumsily linked their arms together.

He wasn’t aware that the Swede was  _ also _ thankful for the cover of night.

They walked in silence around the bar and to the back door, stepping into the foyer one by one. Berwald started up the stairs first and offered a hand; Tino took it and followed him up.

They reached Tino’s door, the only light in the hall coming from a small electric lantern beneath the small bay window. Tino stuck the key in the lock and opened the door before he remembered that he still needed to say something.

He swiveled around, almost falling in the process. “So, uh, thank you for walking me back,” he started, trailing off as he realized Berwald’s hand was on his shoulder.

“Ah -” Berwald removed his hand. “Sorry. Thought ya were gonna fall.” He stepped back, increasing the distance between the two.

“Oh, you’re fine,” Tino replied, waving his hand in the air. “No worries! I’ll see you sometime?”

“Well, I actually wanted ta ask -” he cleared his throat - “if ya haven’t seen a lot of the city, if ya’d like ta go out this weekend and get acquainted.”

“Oh, sure!" Tino's heart was hammering in his ears. He clenched one hand into a fist, trembling, unable to contain his nerves. "I’m free tomorrow?” 

A nod. 

“Great! I wake up usually half seven, so text me anytime after and I’ll meet you somewhere.” He willed himself to lessen his grip, feeling the imprint his nails left in his skin.

“Sure. See ya.” Berwald turned and stepped toward the staircase.

Being in this spot gave Tino a wave of deja vu, remembering when he'd received bread and an apology - and in a weird moment of clarity in his drunken haze, he shouted, “Hey, Ber!”

Berwald turned and looked at him.

“What I told you last time is still true - you aren’t a bother!”

He quickly slammed the door shut before he could see the other man’s reaction.

_ Why did I do that, that was so dorkyyyyy. _

He stumbled towards the shower.

_ Tinoooo, you’re a dooooork. _

The shower passed quickly, and he fell into his bed.

_ He’s totally going to cancel on you tomorrow, you super dork. _

He thought that to himself, but he wasn't serious. His mental focus - what was left of it - was focused on the feeling of Berwald's arm intertwined with his, and how their hands had touched going up the stairs.

The last thing in his mind before he fell asleep was Berwald's face, red as a beet, staring up at him in slight shock.

_ Ber... _


	9. A Short Saturday in Town

Tino’s phone woke him with a ping. He haphazardly reached for it without lifting his head from his pillow, knocking over the pill bottle on his nightstand. He decided not to worry about it for the time being (it had thankfully been closed) and brought the phone to his face, wincing at the artificial light as he unlocked it.

He’d received a message from Berwald.

_ Sorry, slept a little late. Meet outside the bar in an hour? _

Last night’s memories flooded him, and he quickly sat up in bed, typing out a quick response.

_ No worries, I did too. That works for me. _

He stared at the screen, thinking about the previous evening. He felt a churning in his stomach as he recalled tearing up talking to Matthias and receiving a kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time he’d been kissed in any way by a man that wasn’t a relative.

_ Not thinking about that now! _

He hopped out of bed and started digging through his closet.

While he was looking through his shirts, he got another ping from his phone. He checked the message, seeing Emil’s name pop up on the screen.

_ Are you doing anything today? _

He shot a reply back:  _ I’m going around the city with Berwald today. Why do you ask? _

He’d settled on lavender joggers and a black knit shirt - comfortable and just slightly stylish - when he got another text.

_ My bad, didn’t realize you were going on a date. _

Wait.

He reread the text.

_ What do you mean? It’s not a date. _

He was lacing his boots - a reply.

_ Sure. Whatever you say. Looks and sounds like a date to me. _

He rolled his eyes. This wasn’t a date.

_ This isn’t a date, no matter what you think. _

If it was a date, he’d have put a lot more effort into his appearance - maybe even a small amount of makeup? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t really  _ dated _ before.

He slipped on his beanie.

Someone knocked at the door.

He still had plenty of time before meeting Berwald, so that narrowed the potential knocker down to three.

He opened the door.

“Are you going on a date with Berwald?” was the first thing out of Lukas’s mouth.

“How - what - how did you -”

“Emil told me. Mind if I step in?”

Tino was still flabbergasted, so he stepped aside without a word.

Lukas closed the door behind him. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“It’s not a date!”

“Is it just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re doing potentially preplanned activities together?”

“I - well, I guess, when you throw potentially in there.”

“And you’re interested in him?”

Tino stepped back and slightly lost his footing, just barely catching himself. “I - I beg your pardon?”

Lukas’s face remained unchanged. “You like him, right?”

“Um.” 

He didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t. It was like Lukas’s words had formed a laser, boring into his head and heating his brain until it turned to mush. 

Lukas broke the silence. “Your lack of answer tells me yes. So it’s a date.”

This brought Tino back to the present. “Whoa, hey! I - it’s not a date if he said it was owing me for something. That’s not a date.”

“What does he owe you?”

“Um…” Tino’s shoulders went rigid and he looked away. “I went to a farmer’s market last week and, I saw him...and it led to...a lot of anxiety,” he answered slowly. “The details are hazy.”

Lukas crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “Do you get anxious often?” His pose came across as slightly confrontational.

Tino blinked. This wasn’t where he expected the conversation to go. “Uh, I...I don’t know if it’s often or not. I don’t really keep track.” He looked at his boots.

“So I assume you’re anxious about today, then. Maybe even more so than normal.”

Tino managed a smile. “Gee, how did you know?” It was pretty plastic.

The gaze in Lukas’s eyes softened, and he frowned. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Do you read everyone like a children’s book, or just me?”

“Well, your poker face  _ is _ horrendous.” Lukas walked over and placed a hand on Tino’s shoulder. “But I swear, I’m not trying to heckle you. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“You’re okay.” He met Lukas’s eyes with his own. “My psychiatrist told me that the more I work on talking about it, the easier it’ll get.” He hardened his gaze. “But it’s  _ not  _ a date!”

Lukas laughed and held up his hands in defeat. “Okay! It’s not a date. Then why are you so nervous?”

“Huh?”

“Well it would make more sense if you were nervous for a date than just hanging out with a friend.”

Tino tilted his head. “But  _ are  _ we friends, though?”

Lukas arched an eyebrow. “I’d say if someone ran after me out of a bar because they were worried, I’d consider them a friend.”

Tino leaned against the wall, balancing on his heels and thinking. “Huh, I guess I didn’t think about it that way.”

Lukas huffed out a small sigh and smiled. “Guess our group of four has extended to five.”

“It sounds like you’re adopting a pet.”

“Would you rather be a pet or a child?”

“Neither, thank you!” He glanced at his phone; still plenty of time left. “Why did you come over, anyway?”

“Well, I thought you were actually going on a date.” Lukas was already stepping towards the door. “Since you aren’t, I guess I came over here for no reason.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster as a response.

Lukas opened the door and stepped into the hall. “Well, have a good day! I’ll see you later.” The door swung shut with a slam.

Tino’s mental effort was completely focused on processing what had just happened; he stood leaning against the wall for a full two minutes after Lukas departed. But unlike other situations that involved a lot of thinking, he was mentally at a loss for words. When he could finally form a coherent sentence, it came out of his mouth:

“Why did he need to come over if we were going on a date?!?!”

  
  


When he stepped out of the foyer and around to the front of the bar, Berwald was already there. He was slightly more dressed up than Tino, with neatly fitting jeans and a sweater. When he noticed Tino, he gave a smile and a small nod as a hello.

_ Man, Mads had to be plastered last night to come up with the idea of him never smiling.  _ Tino reciprocated with a similar gesture.  _ All he did was look at me, and bam! _

He broke the silence first. “What are we doing today?”

To his surprise, Berwald held out a piece of paper. “Have ya been anywhere on here?”

Tino gently received the paper and looked at the list. It was handwritten, in small, neat, blocky letters. The words must have designated different areas of Stockholm, but Tino could only recognize one or two - the rest were completely foreign to him. “Um…” He strained his brain. “I know Södermalm, since I live here, but I think that’s it.” He handed the list back.

Berwald nodded. “Gotcha. We can go to Gamla Stan first, then.”

“That’s the old town, right?”

“Mm. All the really old history stuff is there.”

Without another word, he began walking, Tino taking a moment to process and then scurrying after him.

The pair wordlessly walked to the nearest metro station, boarding the first ride to Gamla Stan. Normally, Tino would have his headphones on, to help distract from the noises around him, but he’d thought it would be rude to bring them today. He’d thought that maybe they’d naturally fall into some kind of conversational lull, like they had at the cafe. 

But that didn’t seem to be the case; in fact, Berwald was looking out the window, completely ignoring him. He couldn’t see his face, as there was no light shining to show his reflection.

Tino could handle an awkward silence, but this was just plain uncomfortable.  _ I have got to do something about this. _

He cleared his throat. “Um. So. Are you excited for the new job?”

Berwald tilted his head slightly.

His face was red.

_ Oh. Well, that makes sense. _

He nodded and turned back to the window.

_ I think. _

“Um, are you feeling all right?” 

Berwald coughed suddenly, as if he was surprised at the question.  _ Gee, I wonder if that offended him somehow?  _

“Sorry. Still kinda embarrassed from last night.” At least he had turned his body away from the window and was now regularly sitting. “Not tryin’ ta make it awkward or anything.”

Tino couldn’t stop himself before the words left his mouth. “What part of last night?”

Berwald bit his lip and turned away again. “Uh.”

_ Oops. _

“Ah - I’m sorry! I guess I wasn’t thinking…”

At the word  _ sorry, _ Berwald straightened up and turned to Tino. “Ya don’t have ta apologize. All ya did was ask a question, so no need.” The blush was slowly draining, his face returning to its normal color. “You’re fine.”

“Uh -” Tino felt his heart rate increase. “I - I’m sorry for apologizing?”

He caught a sideways glance from Berwald - as if he was saying  _ What did I just say?  _ \- as the train’s intercom informed them that their stop was coming up. Wordlessly, the pair rose and headed to the door as the train came to a stop. 

As they exited the metro station, they were welcomed to a sight of buildings from multiple generations. The contrast of the modern, sleek office spaces compared to the embassies and churches of old was jarring. Tino had seen plenty of historical Finnish places, but this was his first time as a tourist in his neighboring country. 

Berwald lifted his hand and pointed. “See the black point over there?”

Tino nodded.

“First stop.” 

Tino nodded again as they started towards the peak. 

His nervousness about the day had diminished after their train conversation. Somehow, the reassurance he’d received after apologizing had done wonders, and he was already feeling comfortable enough to chat - like at the cafe.

He began to run a series of conversational questions through his mind, trying to decide on the best choice, when Berwald decided to start it for him. “Can I ask ya a question?”

“Sure? Ask away.”

There was hesitation - TIno heard his breath hitch - but he got it out. “Was bein’ married a hassle?” Upon seeing Tino’s facial expression, he quickly amended his statement. “Not bein’ married. Erm. More like...the actual gettin’ married part. Wedding and stuff.” 

_ Wait. What. _

Tino was getting used to strange questions from his new social circle, but the amendment just left him confused. “If I answer you, will you tell me why you asked?” 

“I’ll just tell ya, if ya want.” He continued before Tino got a chance to respond. “It’s not somethin’ I like ta admit, but…” He lowered his volume slightly. “Havin’ a wedding just seems really enjoyable. My parents were always excited to throw me one, but I never got engaged or anythin’.” His face was reddening again.

_ Man, Tuuli would be calling you tomato face right about now. _

He wondered what Tuuli would think of him. Probably something good, if Tino was already this relaxed around him.

Shaking that thought out of his mind, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“I - I see,” he sputtered out eventually, trying to focus on the initial question. “We, uh, didn’t really have much of a wedding - just went to the courthouse and signed the papers, then my mom made dinner.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So I couldn’t tell you, really.” 

“...Ah,” was the reply.

Neither knew how to proceed after that, so they walked in a (slightly uncomfortable) silence until they were at their destination.

The black peak was connected to a clock tower that presided over a large church. Apart from one addition on the opposite end, the building seemed to be all in one piece, with large, dark windows covering much of the outside.

_ I think I’ve seen this in a book somewhere. _

Tino’s heart picked up the pace as they approached, fearing any large, lingering crowds that could be touring.

“This’s the oldest buildin’ in town.” 

Berwald’s voice kept Tino from drifting off.

“Used ta be a monastery, I think.” Berwald’s eyes drifted to the entrance. “Doesn’t seem ta be busy... “ He turned. “Want ta go in? ‘S free.”

Tino nodded.

The first and most striking thing about the church’s interior was its floor, a polished copper that shot beams of light into Tino’s and Berwald’s eyes. Pointed archways were lined in rows against the central hall. Pinks mixed with whites to create soft lighting all across the chambers. Several small paths branched out into separate rooms, darkened with the hush of soft whispers from the few congregated there.

At the end of the hall, the room opened up to hold a choir loft and pulpit, along with chairs lined against the walls. Two large tombs lay beneath the pulpit.

Tino took a minute to look around. When his eyes fell to the tombs, he blinked. “Are people buried here?” 

Berwald nodded. “All of Sweden’s monarchs, give or take one or two.” 

“That makes sense. Like that one church in London.” 

The air felt thick and viscous around the pair, as if the fact of this place being sacred with history had manifested into the atmosphere. The softness of the walls echoed with piety and reverence.

Tino started to feel nauseous.

He warily glanced at the face of the figure sculpted into the tomb lid. 

It seemed to be staring back at him, with an angry, all-too-familiar expression.

He shivered.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of the tomb lid. 

Where did the feeling in his ankles go?

“Tino.” The voice next to him was so firm, he nearly jumped out of his skin. After a moment, he realized Berwald’s hand was also on his shoulder. “Are ya all right?”

Tino swallowed. “Yeah. Uh. I’m fine.”

The look on Berwald’s face said he wasn’t buying it, but his voice remained steady. “If you’re sure, then. Want ta leave?”

Tino was already nodding before he could process what Berwald had said. He was then briskly guided outside, away from the entrance so the pair could avoid any potential wandering eye.

Tino was mentally scrambling for something to say when Berwald spoke. “You said you were okay, but ah thought you may want some air.”

“Ah, uh, yeah, um, thank you,” Tino stammered out. “I, um, I appreciate it.”

“Ya sure ya were ok?” Berwald’s tone relaxed. It had a slight undertone of worry to it, and Tino didn’t know how to comprehend that. 

_ Why is lying something I hate so much? _

“W - well, the statue - tombstone - whatever it was.” He paused. “It kinda looked like my dad.” He looked at the ground, focusing on breathing and steadying himself.

Berwald didn’t say anything. 

After a minute, Tino started again. “I just…” He struggled to figure out exactly what he was trying to say, without saying everything. “He just passed away so recently…”

Berwald nodded. “Has to be hard, hm.”

Tino nodded wordlessly.

“Ah don’t mean to sound crass, but, I don’t envy you.” Each word felt gentler than the last. “I can’t imagine losin’ either one of mine, and with ‘em growin’ old…” His words trailed off, ending in almost a whisper. His face didn’t change much, but his emotion was present in his voice. “Ah guess I can see why ya wanted a new start.” 

Before Tino could process what his acquaintance was saying, his mind’s eye was picturing a giant stuffed bear in front of him rather than a broadly built Swede. 

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that mental image.

He tried his damnedest to get it out of his head. “Well, we all have to deal with it at some point, I suppose?” He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

Berwald gave a slight nod. “Mm.” He then jerked his head in the direction of a street leading away from the church. “Want ta grab somethin’ to eat?”

Tino sighed internally, thankful for the topic change. “Sure.”

The pair began walking down one of the major roads in Gamla Stan, Tino stealing glances at Berwald every so often as he was led to a small restaurant off the main road.

All during lunch, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was eating with a teddy bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies that this story hasn't been updated in several months. Extenuating circumstances in my personal life have been causing me severe issues, and I've really only got the energy for a few things right now. I hope that in the future I'll be able to work on this with some degree of regularity.   
> Many thanks to bwinkbear for beta reading this chapter.


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